The Next Generation 3: The Ancient Runes
by S-Drama-Queen-17
Summary: COMPLETE Elizabeth Potter's third-year is approaching, and her magic is going haywire. Will she be able to stop it?
1. Emma on Fire

Chapter 1 – Emma on Fire  
  
Summer was coming to an abrupt halt, but not without a fight. It was pelting its heat on an innocent neighborhood, torn and disgruntled from a water restriction. A few of its residents attempted to put on a cheerful appearance, but their lives had been melted into sluggish movement and a complete lethargy, now distorted into something unrecognizable as activity.  
  
Elizabeth Potter was one of those people. She had forced her hand to write letters to her friends, hopefully in much cooler spots than she was. She had taken weeks to finish only two of her many summer assignments. And she had to put the air conditioner on full blast just to be able to talk on the telephone.  
  
Her using the telephone in and of itself was a strange occurrence. Liz was a witch, a pupil of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Magic folk, unlike Muggles, used owls to contact each other. Rarely did a magic family own a phone. But Liz was lucky in that aspect. Her parents (who were her adoptive parents) were Muggles and could not understand owl post. One of Liz's best friends, Rachel Yates, was a half-blood, and her father had a telephone, too, so the two girls now talked to each other regularly.  
  
"I can't wait for school to start. It's too hot here!" Liz said.  
  
"I know, but I'd rather not. The little monsters will embarrass me for sure."  
  
Rachel had younger twin sisters, Carla and Theresa, who were starting at Hogwarts this year.  
  
"I wish it were colder," Liz said absentmindedly. Instantly, the air conditioner's dial went higher than the highest setting, and Liz experienced a sensation like freezing and melting at the same time. "I'll call you later!" she yelled into the phone. She knew she wasn't supposed to do that, but it was so hard to remember.  
  
Ever since she had turned thirteen, and particularly since she had gotten home for vacation, her magic seemed to be responding to her thoughts and feelings randomly. Sometimes it even went haywire for no reason at all. For example, at dinner the other night, the bowl holding the mashed potatoes had exploded. Most of the food had gotten on Emma. The weirdest thing about it was an overwhelming sense of power that made her seize up for a moment. Even weirder was the lack of notice. Underage witches and wizards weren't supposed to do magic outside of school, and usually they were notified when they did. No notice had ever appeared, and Liz wondered if they noticed.  
  
She really regretted never mentioning to Rachel any of the bizarre incidences that had been plaguing her all summer. She kept meaning to, but most of their conversations were cut off by things like, "I've got to go, my desk disappeared," or, "I've got to go, there's a crater-sized hole in my floor." Those two had been worst-case scenarios, and had somehow miraculously fixed themselves overnight.  
  
Liz had also been talking regularly to Michael Weasley, her other best friend, on the phone. His father, Ron, was a pureblood wizard, but his mother, Hermione, was Muggle-born. Apparently she had seen the necessity of owning a common Muggle telephone. According to Michael, the only one who put more hours on it than him was his older sister Jessica, a soon-to-be- fifth-year, who talked to her Muggle-born friends all the time.  
  
Liz had one more friend, Chris Scott. He didn't have a phone, but he wasn't a wizard. He was a Squib, who had been disowned by his own parents in shame to go live with and help the elderly grounds keeper and teacher, Hagrid. Hagrid was nice, but Liz was careful never to touch anything in his cabin that moved except him and Chris.  
  
Liz had been adopted because both her parents were presumed dead. Harry Potter and Luna Lovegood. Although her father lived on in every single book Liz owned and his fame that made Liz an automatic celebrity too. But Liz had been receiving letters from her mother since her first-year, and they had continued to come ever since. They held a special place in Liz's heart and her top left-hand drawer.  
  
She considered calling Rachel again, but what she really needed was a letter from Hogwarts with her supply list. When she received it, she could call Michael and arrange for a time to go school shopping with him and his family.  
  
For a moment Liz felt strong, and then she heard a hoot. She supposed whatever ability she had had summoned the school owl to her, somehow. How could she be that powerful, to call the birds of the air, school, and post office to her? She determinedly put those thoughts away and opened the letter.  
  
Dear Miss Potter,  
Please note that the new school year will begin on September the first. The Hogwarts Express will leave from King's Cross station, Platform 9 ¾, at eleven o'clock.  
Third years are permitted to visit the village of Hogsmeade on certain weekends. Please give the enclosed permission form to your parent or guardian to sign.  
A list of books for next year is enclosed.  
Minerva McGonagall  
Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry  
  
Before Liz could re-read the letter and memorize it, like she did with most of her letters, her door banged open. Emma, Liz's adoptive sister and main summer-destroyer, stood framed in the doorway. In three swift movements (one from the door, one back, and one into the hallway), Emma snatched the letter from Liz's outstretched palms and took off.  
  
It took Liz a couple of seconds to comprehend what had just happened, but once she did, she was after Emma. "Emma? Emma! Come back here and give me my letter NOW! I mean it!"  
  
"I'll rip it," Emma threatened from the corner of her room. "And you know I would."  
  
Liz knew she was right. For two years, Emma wouldn't stop at anything to make Liz's life miserable. She would bring around her friends and talk loudly outside Liz's door. The summer before Liz's second year, Emma had tried to snap Liz's wand. This was just another way to make Liz dread future summer breaks.  
  
"Just give it back."  
  
"Make me."  
  
Liz wished she could. With all her might, she wished she could whip out he wand and curse Emma beyond recognition. She actually found herself reaching for her wand before she stopped. Something was happening with Emma, and that something wasn't good.  
  
The letter was turning red, and red-hot by the heat radiating from it. Emma yelped, bouncing it between her hands like a hot potato, and it burned her every time. She finally dropped it to the floor, where it sizzled for only a second. "MUM! MUM!" Emma yelled, running out of the room. Liz picked up the letter before following her; it had returned to normal.  
  
She found Emma and her adoptive mother, Mrs. Smith, in the living room on the couch. Mrs. Smith had a bowl of cold water and was dipping Emma's hand in it. Liz didn't bother telling them that it would hurt less later on if they dipped it in hot water. Emma was sobbing uncontrollably. When Liz entered the room, she cried, "Her letter burned me!"  
  
Mrs. Smith looked bewildered, as if she didn't know what to make of it all. "Well, I'm sure it wasn't Liz's fault, honey, she doesn't do magic at home, remember? So it couldn't have been her."  
  
"But—it was!" Emma protested shrilly.  
  
Mrs. Smith looked at both of them. "Liz, run on to your room, dear. Emma, why did you have the letter in the first place?"  
  
"Oh, Mum, before I go, can you sign this permission form?" Liz asked. "Third-years can visit Hogsmeade. It's really fascinating, but I doubt I'll go much. It might cut into study time. Maybe I'll just go for Christmas shopping."  
  
"Sure, honey." Mrs. Smith took out her pen and signed. "Now, Emma—"  
  
"Oh, Mum, can I call my friend about going school shopping? Please?"  
  
Emma glowered at her. Mrs. Smith nodded.  
  
Up in her room, Liz picked up the phone and dialed Michael's number. Jessica answered. "Hello?"  
  
"Hi, Jessica. It's Liz. Can I speak to Michael?"  
  
"Sure. MICHAEL! PHONE!"  
  
Michael came on the line. "Hello? Liz? Is that you?"  
  
"Yes. How are you doing?"  
  
"You mean since the last time you called two hours ago? Pretty good."  
  
Liz smiled. "I got my Hogwarts letter. Did you?"  
  
"Yes. My mum wants to know what time for school shopping is good for you. Oh, and we're bringing Rachel, too."  
  
"Anytime."  
  
"Wednesday at ten good for you?"  
  
"Sure. I'll let Mum know. Bye!"  
  
Liz hung up and smiled. For the first time this summer, she wasn't worried about her magic, or her sister, or her real mother, or new classes she would begin in September. She was just glad she would be going back to Hogwarts. 


	2. George Weasley

Chapter 2 – George Weasley  
  
On Wednesday morning, Liz sat impatiently in a chair next to the door, doing another of her summer assignments. Emma made it a point to pass by every few minutes, sniffing loudly, so Liz made it a point to ignore her.  
  
At exactly ten, Emma said, "I guess they forgot you."  
  
"It's ten," Liz replied coolly.  
  
The doorbell rang. Liz smirked and answered it. Rachel nearly bowled her over. "Liz! How are you?"  
  
"Good, thanks. And you?"  
  
"Look, Carla, it's Elizabeth Potter!"  
  
"I know, Theresa, be quiet!"  
  
"You!"  
  
"You!"  
  
Rachel sighed in frustration. "Liz, this is Carla and Theresa. I believe you've met before."  
  
"Hi," the twins squeaked in unison.  
  
"Er—hi," Liz said. "Where are the Weasleys?"  
  
"Back here!" said Michael's voice from behind a moving bunch of three broomsticks. Mr. Weasley and Jessica had two each, and Mrs. Weasley had one.  
  
"Come on, we've got to get going now," said Mrs. Weasley. "Get a broom, everyone."  
  
"Brooms?" Liz cringed. "Can't we use Floo powder or something?" Brooms were definitely not on Liz's list of favorite modes of transportation.  
  
"No, I need to stock up when we get to Diagon Alley."  
  
Liz really didn't want to be rude, so she grinned weakly and took a broom. She almost fell while trying to mount. Finally she was ready.  
  
"Bye, Emma! Tell Mum and Dad I'm going! Bye!"  
  
Her last sight of her house that morning was Emma's brunette head poking out from the door, open-mouthed. She laughed so much she almost fell off her broom.  
  
"Watch it," said Michael.  
  
During the ride there, Rachel quizzed Liz about her summer. "How're Luna and Sunny?"  
  
Luna was Liz's owl, a tiny snowy owl. Sunny was her cat. "They're fine."  
  
"Good. Was Emma too much trouble?"  
  
Liz nodded. "Too much trouble."  
  
They landed in a vacant lot beside the Leaky Cauldron. Liz and Rachel clung to each other as they passed through the grimy-looking pub. The twins fought over who would hold Rachel's hand. Finally, they got to the back. Mr. Weasley tapped the brick wall with the tip of his wand, and then wall opened into a magnificent archway.  
  
"Time to go to Gringotts! Gringotts! Gringotts!" the twins sang, bouncing up and down.  
  
Despite the fact that they had two human jumping beans on their hands, the Weasleys, the Yates sisters, and Liz finally reached the wizard bank. On the way to the vaults, Liz asked Mrs. Weasley something she had been wondering for a long time: "Is Transfiguration going to be hard this year?" Mrs. Weasley was the Transfiguration teacher at Hogwarts.  
  
"She won't tell you," said Michael. "She won't even tell me." He folded his arms across his chest.  
  
They went to the Weasleys' vault first. It contained stacks upon piles of Galleons, Sickles, and Knuts, but it was nothing compared to Liz's. Her father had been an Auror, and when he had finally been presumed dead, all of his money had been passed on to Liz. She reluctantly shoveled some money into her bag.  
  
The Yates vault was not as good as either of the others, but Rachel didn't seem ashamed. She seemed perfectly cheerful. "Well," she quipped, "now I know who to borrow money from."  
  
After that, Mrs. Weasley agreed to take the twins wand shopping and robe shopping while Mr. Weasley took the others to get books for all of them. He talked as they walked. "I swear I will never understand fellytones...the infernal thing rings ever hour of the day and night...why Hermione wanted it, I'll never know..."  
  
Rachel and Jessica sniggered.  
  
"Ah, here we are, Flourish and Blotts. Do you all have your booklists?" All four of them whipped them out. "Good."  
  
They proceeded inside, where the shop owner was yelling at innocent children for touching his books. There was a grown man doing weird things to the shop owner, like turning his nose blue or making him bald and grow back hair again at high-speed. Surrounding children cheered every time he did this. The troublemaker was tall and lanky with red hair, and he bore a strong resemblance to Mr. Weasley and Michael.  
  
"Uncle George!" Michael yelled.  
  
"Michael! Ron! What are you doing here?" The man came over to them. The little children in the background moaned.  
  
"School shopping. You?" said Mr. Weasley.  
  
"Well, the shop doesn't open for an hour, so I thought I'd come down here and have some fun."  
  
"Shop?" said Rachel.  
  
"Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes," said Jessica.  
  
"Jessica, my beautiful niece! What year are you going into? Fifth? Ah, O.W.L. year, no fun at all. But that was the year Gryffindor won the Quidditch Cup, eh, Ron? How's that going, Michael?"  
  
"Okay, so far, but we haven't won the past two years. Where's Uncle Fred?" asked Michael.  
  
"He's at our branch in Hogsmeade," said George. "We switch off a lot."  
  
Michael's uncle helped them find all the books they needed. At last they came to the last book on Liz's list. "Er, can't read this one. What is it?"  
  
"I'm not sure," said Mr. Weasley.  
  
"I think it says Ancient Runes in Ancient Runes," said Liz. She gestured to the shopkeeper. "Let's ask him."  
  
"Heh, I don't know," said George, rubbing the back of his neck. "I'm a spot on his sheet of troubles, if you get me."  
  
Liz went over and asked him, and came back. "He says it's in Aisle F, and to go away."  
  
"That's him for you," said George.  
  
They went to get it, and they were just about to leave when Liz felt the power again. "Oh, no," she thought. "This couldn't be good."  
  
And it really couldn't.  
  
The bottom book of a book display disappeared. The display wobbled and teetered dangerously before toppling over, splaying the books on the floor.  
  
The shop owner was on them in an instant. "Who did it? Who did? Which one of you?" He spotted Michael's uncle. "You! You again! Out of my store!"  
  
Liz started to speak up, but Mr. Weasley ushered her out the door. "Let's go, let's go, let's get a move on..."  
  
"Well, he got up on the wrong side of the bed this morning!" said Rachel.  
  
"Again, that's him for you," said George. "Well, little bro and company, I've got to go. Store opens in twenty minutes. Nice meeting you, Rachel, Liz!"  
  
Michael and Jessica hugged him goodbye and he Disapparated back to his shop.  
  
"Uncle Fred is the same way," Michael told Rachel and Liz. "Mum says they never grew up."  
  
"So they didn't," said Mr. Weasley. "Filthy rich, those two, and, according to Percy, they never got a respectable job." But by the tone of his voice, it sounded like he was quite fine if Fred and George never got respectable jobs.  
  
"He's not too fond of Uncle Percy," Jessica muttered.  
  
"Oh, I'm fond enough of him. He just aged before he turned thirteen. And there was that whole feud in my fifth-year—but we need to continue our shopping." He stopped. "Gaw, I sound like your mother."  
  
"What about me?" asked his wife, approaching him from behind.  
  
"Look, Rachel, look at my wand!" squealed Carla, or Theresa; Liz couldn't tell which. "It's holly, unicorn hair, ten inches!"  
  
"Mine's better!" cried the other. "It's mahogany, phoenix core, ten inches!"  
  
"Are done here?" Jessica asked.  
  
"No, let's show the Yates sisters and Liz our uncles' store," said Michael.  
  
"I'm afraid it's time to go," said Mrs. Weasley. "Maybe we can go next time."  
  
"Please, Mum?" Michael begged.  
  
"No."  
  
"But—"  
  
Mrs. Weasley pursed her lips and looked at him. He went silent.  
  
"Come on, let's go. I told Alison I'd call her," said Jessica.  
  
They all mounted their brooms outside the Leaky Cauldron and took off. At one point, Liz was rolling over in the air, so the whole group had to stop while Mr. Weasley and Michael righted her. The twins almost fell off their brooms, too, but that was because they were rocking them forward and back. Finally, they reached the Smiths' house.  
  
"Bye!" she called. "Who's taking my broom?"  
  
"I am. See you at home, Ron," said Mrs. Weasley. "Goodbye, Liz." And she Disapparated.  
  
"Bye, Liz!" Michael and Rachel called together.  
  
"Bye!" she said again, stepping inside and taking pride in pretending Emma was invisible. She still had so much to think about before school started.  
  
A/N: To Pussin Boots, who asked if she could write Emma's point of view, YES! That would be all right with me. In fact, I'd love to hear what you think about her. Especially since I'm already on the sixth book and I don't even remember all that I'm posting currently. I'm just trying to catch up with myself. So, sure! 


	3. The Portkey

Chapter 3 – The Portkey  
  
"Mum, I'm going to be late! We've got to hurry up!"  
  
"I'm coming, I'm coming," Mrs. Smith said. "Bye, Emma dear!" Emma didn't answer. "Ah, well. She's in a mood. It'll pass eventually."  
  
Liz would have gladly pointed out that Emma had been in a mood for two years, but she didn't. She handed Luna in her cage to Mrs. Smith, who wrinkled her nose disdainfully. "Mum, it's not that bad."  
  
They reached King's Cross station with only minutes to spare. "Go, hurry, I love you, have a good year!" Mrs. Smith called out.  
  
"Bye, Mum," said Liz. "I'll write." The car sped off.  
  
Liz put Luna's cage under her arm and made for the barrier between platforms nine and ten. She had only minutes before the train left. The station was crowded. So crowded, in fact, that the trolley she was pushing couldn't maneuver its way through the narrow paths that people created. It over turned, leaving Liz with spilled belongings, a screeching owl, and a spitting cat. Many people stared.  
  
"The train, I'm going to miss the train. Shh, Sunny." She gathered up her stuff and started off again, this time at a quickened pace. Only a minute to go, she told herself. She had to hurry, or she had no plausible idea of what she would do.  
  
She could finally see the barrier. "Thirty seconds to go, let's go," she muttered. She ran at it, top speed. She made it through, only to see the train leaving. "No, wait!" she screamed, running. "Come back, you've got to, I need to get on!" She stopped as the train left her range of vision. "It's gone," Liz mumbled uselessly.  
  
"Liz! Aren't you supposed to be on the train?" said a voice. Liz looked around to see Mr. Weasley.  
  
"Mr. Weasley! What are you doing here?"  
  
"Seeing Hermione and the kids off. Aren't you supposed to be gone?"  
  
"Yes, but I ran late, and...and...I missed it."  
  
"I believe I can help you there. I can make you a Portkey, I think. You know what that is, don't you?"  
  
"Yes, I read about those."  
  
"Good." He pulled out a Galleon. "Give it to Michael when you get there. Portus." The Galleon glowed blue for just a second, and then it reverted to gold. "Here. Have a good year."  
  
"Thanks, Mr. Weasley. Bye." She took the Galleon, and she was pulled irresistibly with it through a rush of howling colors.  
  
Liz landed on her feet, but her knees buckled, and she found herself sprawled out on the floor of a compartment with all her belongings, a compartment full of second-years staring down at her. "Sorry," she mumbled. Suddenly, the door burst open and Rachel's head peeked in.  
  
"Have you seen—Liz! Michael, she's in here!"  
  
Michael entered along with her and they both helped Liz put her things in the luggage compartment. Then they found the compartment they had been in before.  
  
"What happened?" Michael asked.  
  
"Well, I was late, and my luggage cart overturned, so I missed the train, but your dad was there, Michael, and he made a Portkey for me—"  
  
Both Rachel and Michael looked puzzled.  
  
"It's an object that send you somewhere when you touch it," Liz told them. "Oh, that reminds me. Here, Michael." She tossed him the coin. "It's from you dad. It's what he used as a Portkey."  
  
"Portkey," Michael said thoughtfully. "I should learn how to do that. Then I'd never have to learn to Apparate. That would be the life."  
  
"Apparently it's really difficult," Liz told him. "They attempt to teach it to you in seventh-year, but not many people get it. Apparating is ten times easier."  
  
"Too bad we have to wait until we're seventeen," Michael said morosely.  
  
"That's only...four years," said Rachel. "Too long for me."  
  
"And me," said Liz, "but I can wait. I have something to tell you two."  
  
Both of them instantly leaned forward.  
  
"I've been having...problems over the summer. My magic keeps turning on by itself. Sometimes it does what I'm thinking or feeling, and sometimes it goes for no reason at all. My desk disappeared, there was a hole in my floor, I burned Emma—"  
  
"And you knocked the books over in Flourish and Blotts?" Rachel finished for her.  
  
"Exactly. I don't know what's going on!"  
  
Rachel and Michael exchanged bewildered glances. "Neither do we," Liz," Michael finally said.  
  
"It's odd, though," said Rachel.  
  
"I know it's odd. Maybe something's wrong with me."  
  
"What could be wrong with you?"  
  
Liz shrugged. "I don't know."  
  
They further discussed other things, and ended up with Michael describing the Hufflepuff Quidditch team to Liz and Rachel. Liz barely heard any of it. "The three chasers are back, they're Shelia Evangelista, Manuel Southard, and Chad Rounds. The Keeper is a fourth0-year named Hugh Kua. He's okay; it's only his second year on the team. Christina Apodaca graduated, so the other Beater, Eunice Horning, is Captain, and David Hannigan replaced her. And Kathryn Hertel's back—"  
  
"Wait a minute, who?"  
  
"Kathryn Hertel. The Seeker, best in the game, but she's leaving next year—"  
  
"No, not her. Before her."  
  
"David Hannigan?"  
  
"Yeah. Who's he? What year is he in?"  
  
"Third, like us. Why?"  
  
"Oh, I dunno. He's kind of...cute."  
  
There followed these words a long awkward pause in which Michael scratched his head, Rachel gaped at Liz, and Liz became interested in her foot.  
  
"Did I just hear you correctly?" said Rachel.  
  
"What?"  
  
"You...fancy somebody?"  
  
"I just think he's cute. And what's it to you, anyway?"  
  
"Well, you are the one who opposed the Valentine's Day Dance because we were too young."  
  
"Well, do you remember how that turned out? Bettie still won't forgive me. But we were eleven...I'm thirteen now."  
  
Rachel gawked. "Has he ever said two words to you? Ever?"  
  
"I told you, I think he's cute. I don't fancy him."  
  
Rachel sat back in her seat. "Sure," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm.  
  
The train came to a halt. The three of them hurried off, occasionally running into people they knew, like John, Bettie (who wouldn't look at Liz), and Thomas. They also saw Winnie Chen, a wicked Slytherin, who stuck her nose in the air, and stomped off. They fought to get to the front of the line to see Chris and Hagrid.  
  
"Over here!" yelled Chris' voice. They finally found him. He was directing first-years into the boats."  
  
"You two, in this one!" he called out. "Hi, how have your summers been? Over here, there's room over here!"  
  
"Pretty good," said Rachel.  
  
"I was thinking," said Liz.  
  
"What else is new," Michael mumbled.  
  
"Could you ride in a carriage up to the school with us? Then we could really catch up. Ask Hagrid."  
  
Chris nodded. "Hagrid?" he yelled.  
  
"What is it yeh need, Chris?" Hagrid called back.  
  
"Can I ride with my friends up to the castle?"  
  
"Sure! Meet me up there! Hello, you three!"  
  
Liz, Rachel, and Michael waved.  
  
The four of them climbed up into the last remaining carriage and sat back as it wheeled them away on its own. "So," said Chris, "like I was saying, how have your summers been?"  
  
Both Rachel and Michael looked meaningfully and Liz. She thought they wanted her to tell Chris about thinking David Hannigan was cute. "What?" she said.  
  
"Your magic," Michael said simply.  
  
"Oh. Oh, that." And she launched into a retelling of the story of her out- of-control magic. Chris, at the end, was astounded. "Wow."  
  
"Oh, look, we're here," said Rachel. "That was short. Bye, Chris!"  
  
"Bye," he said. They went inside Hogwarts. 


	4. Bettie's Grudge

Chapter 4 – Bettie's Grudge  
  
The Great Hall was festive through and through. All the rest of the student body had already seated themselves at the House tables, so Liz, Rachel, and Michael quickly went to go find seats. Liz ended up by Bettie Hess, who stuck her nose in the air and ignored her.  
  
Professor Longbottom carried a stool with the Sorting Hat perched on top to the front of the Hall. He stumbled right before he could place it. Professor Weasley all of the other teachers waited expectantly.  
  
The brim ripped open and the Hat began to sing.  
  
"Welcome back to Hogwarts, it's a very cheery place..."  
  
Liz tuned it out. She had plenty of better things to do than listen to a singing hat. She chanced a glance at David Hannigan, who held his head in his hands and seemed to be staring right through the hat. Then he looked in Liz's direction. After a thrill of excitement, Liz noticed Bettie was waving to him. He had been looking at her. Oh. Well, it wasn't like she fancied him or anything...  
  
"C'mon, Liz, pay attention," Michael muttered. "Liz's head snapped toward Professor Weasley, who was holding a long roll of parchment in front of her and clearing her throat.  
  
"Agosto, Kevin!"  
  
The nervous-looking first-year stumbled on his way up to the stool. Liz watched him with an air of age. Was it just her, or were the new first- years getting progressively smaller each year? Or maybe she was getting bigger...yes, that had to be it.  
  
"RAVENCLAW!"  
  
"Aguilera, Randy!"  
  
"HUFFLEPUFF!"  
  
He hurried over to the Hufflepuff table and (Liz noted) took a seat near David as Kelli Boehm was made a Ravenclaw.  
  
Lillie Bohn was the first new Gryffindor, and Bruce Boudreaux followed her. Thomas Callis was the first new Slytherin. He looked like one, too; a malicious grin seemed permanently plastered on his face. Beverley Castor and Edna Coney joined the Gryffindors, while Sylvia Dagostino took a seat near Randy at the Hufflepuff table. Then there were three new Slytherins in a row: Jonathan Delrio, April Doerr, and Judith Eckhardt.  
  
A minute later, everyone up to Becky Otero was finished. "Rae, Rita!" called Professor Weasley.  
  
"SLYTHERIN!" yelled the hat.  
  
"Rael, Jacob!"  
  
"GRYFFINDOR!"  
  
Finally, after Clarence Wyckoff was Sorted into Slytherin, Professor Weasley smiled slightly and called, "Yates, Carla!"  
  
Rachel crossed her fingers and screwed up her face. "Gryffindor, Gryffindor, Gryffindor..." She unscrewed her eyes to look at Liz and Michael. "Help me here!"  
  
Michael shrugged at Liz and crossed his fingers, too. Liz reluctantly followed suit. The Sorting Hat seemed to take an awfully long time to Sort Carla. Finally—  
  
"GRYFFINDOR!"  
  
Rachel hailed Carla with cheers. "Rachel, Rachel, I'm a Gryffindor! Can you believe it?"  
  
"Shh," Rachel shushed her. "Theresa's up."  
  
Carla quieted down, and Liz thought vaguely that she had never seen either of the twins sit so still before the Sorting Hat called out, "GRYFFINDOR!" Professor Weasley beamed and made the roll of parchment she was holding disappear. Theresa bounded over to her twin and they hugged in celebration.  
  
"I have no wish to restrain you from the food you undoubtedly crave," said McGonagall, "so tuck in!"  
  
Instantly, the plates filled with food. There was a flurry of hands trying to get the first piece from each dish. Liz waited until the dust had settled before taking a leg of chicken.  
  
"Mm, dat's goo'," said Michael, mashed potatoes showing through his teeth. Liz and Rachel recoiled in disgust.  
  
"How can you eat like that?" Liz asked, still eyeing Michael with severe distaste.  
  
"Ask our dad," said Jessica Weasley, a few seats down. "He eats like that, too. Ugh."  
  
Michael swallowed with some difficulty. "It's just easier that way. Every man for himself."  
  
Rachel raised an eyebrow. "The only men I see are the teachers."  
  
"You know what I mean," said Michael, rolling his eyes as if Rachel was just trying to annoy him (which she probably was).  
  
"Liz! Hey—Liz!" called a voice. Liz looked around to see her cousin, Nora Lovegood, approaching her. Nora was a second-year Hufflepuff, and her father was Liz's real mother's brother. Nora had a brother herself, Carl, who was a Ravenclaw fourth-year. Most people, Liz included, thought Nora was slightly dotty.  
  
"Hi, Liz. How was your summer? I read a magazine that my dad threw away for some reason. It was called the Quibbler. It's really fascinating."  
  
It took a minute for Liz to realize which magazine Nora was referring to. "You mean the one our grandfather ran?"  
  
Nora's eyes widened. "He did? Well, he set the foundation for an awesome magazine."  
  
Liz shrugged, as the Quibbler was one of the only things she had never read. "Really," she said, uninterested.  
  
"Yes, really. You should read it sometime." Liz was about to suggest Nora go back to her own table when Nora said, "Well, I better get back to the feast. Bye."  
  
Liz watched her go with raised eyebrows. Rachel wore the same expression. "I've read the Quibbler before. It's absolute rubbish. Last year they had an article about how the Quidditch World Cup a few years ago was cancelled because one of the Seekers lost his dog, so he pretended to have dragon pox. And that was one of the most reasonable articles in there."  
  
"That article was just plain stupid," Michael put in, "because I've read Quidditch Daily...daily for the past five years, and they had pictures of the dragon-shaped bumps all over him. It was positively grotesque."  
  
Liz winced. "Do I really want to hear this?"  
  
"Sure you do," said Michael. He then launched into a long-winded tale about an article in the Quibbler about a C flat and D sharp bells that attacked and ate a family of twenty-six.  
  
It was then time to head upstairs for bed. Jessica Weasley, the fifth-year Gryffindor prefect, led them all the way to the portrait hole, told them the password ("Conjunctivitis"), and let them in.  
  
"I'll be lucky if I ever get in; I can't pronounce Conjinc—Conjunci—Con—" said Michael.  
  
"Conjunctivitis?" Liz said carefully.  
  
"Yeah, that."  
  
Liz made him repeat after her twelve times before he could finally say it. Then she and Rachel took one staircase and Michael took the other up to their respective dormitories. The girls found all their belongings and all their roommates upstairs waiting for them. Bettie leered unpleasantly at Liz before jumping into her bed and thrusting the hangings together.  
  
"When is she going to get over that?" Liz said angrily.  
  
Rachel nodded. "It was...what...two years ago?"  
  
"Yes, but don't forget that McGonagall cancelled the Valentine's Day Dance last year because of what happened in first-year."  
  
"True."  
  
All five Gryffindor third-year girls had to take turns using the shower. Liz ended up last, and Bettie fourth, so that Liz had to wait while Bettie proceeded to take a half-hour-long shower. Rachel was already asleep by the time Bettie emerged from the bathroom, looking smug and very pleased with herself. Liz edged past her into the bathroom and took a long shower, too, though not half as long as Bettie's. She came out, pulled out her wand, and used a quick Drying Spell on her hair so she wouldn't risk a cold. Mrs. Smith had always told her never to go to bed with wet hair; according to her, it was almost guaranteed that she would wake with either a cough or a fever, or both.  
  
Bettie was snoring loudly and sleeping soundly in her bed. Liz climbed into her bed and tried to go to sleep, but she just couldn't. She had too much on her mind, preventing her from getting any rest.  
  
First, there was the Dragon. He had escaped last year while injured and presumably unconscious. He was out there, somewhere, biding his time or planning something else to fulfill his goal, which was to take over Hogwarts.  
  
Then there was her mother. Her real mother. She hadn't written in a while, leading Liz to believe she might have been injured, or worse, dead. If Luna was dead, the Liz would never get to see her, ever.  
  
Besides the subject of David Hannigan, which Liz pushed out of her mind, there were her two new classes, Care of Magical Creatures and Ancient Runes. Liz was worried that the latter would be boring, like History of Magic. Care of Magical Creatures was almost guaranteed to be fun, as Hagrid was teaching it.  
  
Liz rolled over in bed and fell asleep. 


	5. Professor Stickler

Chapter 5 – Professor Stickler  
  
"Good morning. Finally," said Liz as Michael slid into a seat across from her the next morning, rubbing sleep out of his eyes.  
  
"How long does it take you to get ready?" Rachel asked.  
  
"Five minutes," he yawned.  
  
"So...you're saying you overslept?"  
  
"No, I slept the exact amount I wanted to: about nine hours."  
  
"I haven't slept that long since I was five," said Rachel.  
  
"Well, I never get to sleep that long at home. Mum's always nagging me to do chores and things."  
  
"Third-year timetables," called Professor Weasley's voice. A stack of papers made its way down the table, getting smaller and smaller as each person found their schedules. Michael scowled at his.  
  
"What is it?" asked Rachel.  
  
"I don't believe I signed up for Muggle Studies," he answered, wadding his up and stuffing it in his bag. "It's going to be the most boring thing ever. Besides, my mum is Muggle-born; I could just ask her if I had any questions about Muggles."  
  
"Well, it sounded better than the alternatives," said Rachel. "I mean, Arithmancy? Blech. Divination sounds iffy. And Ancient Runes—" (She cast a quick glance at Liz.) "—sounds hard."  
  
"Just say it. It sounds stupid, doesn't it?" said Liz.  
  
"Well...yes, I suppose it does," Rachel agreed.  
  
Once breakfast was over, they left the Great Hall for their first class of the day: Defense Against the Dark Arts.  
  
"I wonder what the teacher will be like?" said Rachel.  
  
"I wonder if we'll have a teacher," said Michael. "I'm beginning to believe the job is jinxed."  
  
"We only need a teacher if they're willing to teach for one year," Liz responded, shifting the weight of her books from one arm to the other, "and we wouldn't have to class on our schedule if there wasn't a teacher. But I agree, having the job does seem to bring bad luck."  
  
They entered the classroom. Standing in front was a short, balding man with a great bushy twitching moustache. He wrung his hands nervously as his first class filed in. He was a pitiable little man; Liz found herself feeling sorry for the fact that all the hair he could have had on his head was in his moustache.  
  
"M-m-m-my name is V-Vernous P-Pumjy. H-how are y-you t-today?" And he smiled rather meekly around at the class, who were so much more numerous than him. "R-right. Open y-your t-tests to p-page f-five, p-please."  
  
The lesson was boring, even by Liz's standards. Professor Pumjy jumped at the smallest things. Michael accidentally dropped a quill, and he leaped a foot into the air. Everyone's notes were punctuated with long marks where they had looked up to see what was the latest problem.  
  
"That was awful," Liz said as they left. "What's next?"  
  
"Ooh, Care of Magical Creatures!" said Rachel. "Let's go!"  
  
They left the castle and set off toward Hagrid's cabin. A group of people had already gathered at the door, including many Slytherins. Winnie Chen and a friend were poking at Hagrid's windows with a stick.  
  
"That one really is the limit," said Michael contemptuously.  
  
The door swung open, and everyone near it backed up a few feet. Hagrid emerged, followed by Chris.  
  
"I thought he didn't help with this class," said Rachel.  
  
"Hello, class! Welcome ter Care o' Magical Creatures," said Hagrid. "Before we begin, I'd like ter take a chance ter welcome my new teacher's aid, Chris Scott. I'm sure some o yeh have seen 'im around before. Now that's settled. Yeh've got ter be wary when dealin' with interestin' creatures. No proddin' 'em or anythin' like that. Today I brought knarls." He produced a bag of quivering, spiky brown balls. "Look jus' like porcupines, don' they? Trick is, they're highly suspicious. Won' take no food owner doesn' give 'em. Think they're bein' poisoned. But these here are pretty trusting, they let the sixth-years pet 'em, so get in groups o' three and take a knarl."  
  
Liz, Rachel, and Michael moved forward and took one. It snapped at Michael's fingers, so Liz took it. Chris came to join them, making sure Hagrid was busy. He was trying to pull a particularly rowdy knarl off Winnie Chen's hand.  
  
"How has it been so far?" Chris asked.  
  
"Defense Against the Dark Arts was a dud," said Michael promptly. "The new professor is afraid of his own shadow."  
  
"Yeah, I know what you mean," Chris said.  
  
"This is our second class, so, that's about it," said Liz. "I like this knarl, it's funny."  
  
"I don't think it likes me much," said Michael, who was keeping his fingertips away from the creatures' mouth.  
  
"Me either. Stupid quills," said Rachel, who had just gotten poked by one.  
  
"It's your first time," said Chris. "You'll get better at it."  
  
After a while, Hagrid told them all to bring the knarls back to him for a head count of both students and knarls.  
  
"Bye, little fellow," Liz said softly as it scampered into its box.  
  
"Muggle Studies next," said Rachel. Michael groaned.  
  
"I have Ancient Runes," said Liz.  
  
Chris said, "You'll do fine." He seemed to know she was worried about it. "You'll be the best in the class, I bet."  
  
"Thanks," Liz said. "Bye!"  
  
Rachel and Michael left her at a right-hand corridor, so she came to a small flight of stairs by herself. He couldn't see the top. "Here goes nothing," she muttered to herself, and began the ascension.  
  
The stairs were much higher up than Liz had thought they were; they spiraled up and up and seemed to go on forever. At last she came to a dimly lit corridor, at the end of which was a door. The doorknob felt smooth against her hot hand as she twisted it open.  
  
"Elizabeth Potter, I presume?"  
  
Sitting behind a desk was a man of no great stature, but he possessed a maddening air of authority. The rest of the class had already been seated. Liz looked around at her classmates, which included many Ravenclaws and—David Hannigan! But Liz's heart dropped when she saw Bettie Hess avoiding her eye.  
  
"Late two minutes, Miss Potter," said the teacher. "Two points from Gryffindor. Please take a seat."  
  
Liz was shocked. Besides Snape, who hated her anyway, no teacher took points from her. She took the last remaining seat by John Peterson, feeling very wrong footed.  
  
"I am Professor Stickler," said the teacher, beginning to pace around the room. "These are the rules. Be on time." His eyes lingered on Liz for a second. "Come prepared for class. And ALWAYS," he said, slapping his wand on the desk so most of the class jumped, "raise your hand to speak. Follow these rules and you will do well in my classroom. If you don't, you can expect extra homework and an unhappy mark come exam time. Any questions?"  
  
"Yeah," John muttered. "When are you going to lighten up?"  
  
Liz couldn't help giggling. Professor Stickler's eyes show toward her like an arrow toward its target. "Is there something in the rules you find amusing, Miss Potter?"  
  
"N—no," said Liz, fighting to keep a straight face.  
  
"Good. I don't doubt many of you are wondering what Ancient Runes is all about."  
  
There was a dull murmur of assent through the class.  
  
"Yes, I figured as much. The Ancient Runes, the originals, are found on the east coast of Sardinia, on the Tyrrhenian Sea, in an underwater cave. Many languages were modeled after them, so we will be studying those tongues and the original markings."  
  
A couple people moaned. Professor Stickler's eyes flashed and they were still.  
  
Liz was feeling decidedly better about this. Dead languages, she could do. She sat forward eagerly in her seat.  
  
"Please take out your books. The title is in the alphabet of the writers of the Ancient Runes. We'll be covering them, too."  
  
For the rest of the class, Stickler showed then pictures of the caves where the Ancient Runes were, and a vague image of the entire thing. "We'll be studying each one in great detail," he announced as the bell rang, signifying their release. Everyone stood.  
  
"What do you think you are doing? Sit," he commanded. Everyone sat. "The bell does not dismiss the class. The teacher does. The bell is a guideline for me." He paused. "You may leave. Good day."  
  
Liz hurried past Bettie with mixed feelings about what she had gotten herself into. What it was, exactly, she wasn't sure yet. 


	6. Snape's Cupboard

Chapter 6 – Snape's Cupboard  
  
"Out! Out of my way! I've had an awful time, listening to some nutter jabber on about eckel-thingy-whatever—"  
  
"It's electricity, Michael," Rachel told him, but she did not look too happy either as they sat down at the Gryffindor table across from Liz for lunch.  
  
"Er—how was Muggle Studies—?"  
  
"Awful," Michael declared at once. "The teacher—his name is Rosenberg—he talked about—"  
  
"Electricity," Rachel supplied dully.  
  
"—the whole bloody time!"  
  
Liz looked at him. "So it wasn't so good?"  
  
Michael's eyes widened, but he finally made it out to be a joke. "Not so good," he sighed desperately.  
  
Rachel looked over at him and then at Liz. "How was Ancient Runes?"  
  
"Could've been better," Liz replied. "The subject is good, but the teacher is really...strict."  
  
Rachel nodded and asked, "Any homework? We have two rolls of parchment on how Muggles get along without magic using electricity."  
  
"Come to think of it, no. We didn't really do anything today except go over their rules."  
  
"I'd call that a pretty good class period," Michael said miserably.  
  
"But that was after I lost two points for being late."  
  
"He took points off you?" Michael said incredulously. "But nobody takes points off you! Except Snape, of course, but he doesn't count. Who is this guy, huh? He obviously has no idea who you are."  
  
"Oh, he knows, he spit out my name, took two points, and told me to sit down. He loves the rules. As long as I follow them, I think I'll do really well."  
  
"Because heaven forbid you lose any points besides the ones Snape takes," said Rachel sarcastically.  
  
Liz changed the subject. "Why don't we go see Chris on Friday? It'll be fun."  
  
"Uh, Liz?" said Michael. "We just saw him today and we're going to see him Thursday."  
  
"But that was for classes," said Liz. "We want to continue with his Squib lessons, don't we?"  
  
They stared at her.  
  
"Don't we?"  
  
"Liz," said Rachel, sounding as if she was trying to break it to her gently, "do you remember how that went? Besides, I doubt Chris wants to continue—"  
  
"He does. I asked him last year."  
  
"Oh." Rachel's face fell. So did Michael's.  
  
"But Friday can be a normal visit with him and Hagrid, you know?" Liz said quickly. Keen as she was to continue those lessons, she understood exactly how Rachel and Michael felt. Last year's lessons hadn't gone very well at all.  
  
Soon Friday, the three of them set off to Hagrid's cabin. Chris met them at the door. "Isn't it great that I get to help out with Care of Magical Creatures this year? I always asked Hagrid to let me, and now he finally says yes!" was the first thing he said.  
  
"Maybe he let you because we were there," said Liz.  
  
"Hmm. Maybe. Anyway," he said, lowering his voice, did you come to give another lesson? If so—"  
  
"No, just talk about it a little. You do still want to do it, don't you?"  
  
"Yes, I do. But..."  
  
"But what?"  
  
"Nothing."  
  
"We can't let Hagrid see, right? Or else we're in trouble."  
  
"And," said Chris, "we can't let anyone else see, or we're in Ministry law- breaking trouble."  
  
Hagrid chose that time to approach them and clap Chris on the back, almost knocking him over. "You three enjoying school this year?"  
  
They looked at each other. "Well..."  
  
"Well what?"  
  
"There's Muggle Studies—"  
  
"—and Professor Stickler—"  
  
"—and Snape..."  
  
"What's he done now?" asked Chris.  
  
"Given us too much homework," said Rachel.  
  
"My sister says to have a stock of parchment, just for doing his homework," said Michael.  
  
"Sounds fun," Chris grimaced.  
  
They explained how all their other teachers were, including a memorable episode in Herbology where Professor Longbottom had nearly set greenhouse four on fire. Then they told Hagrid and Chris about their other new classes. Hagrid seemed especially interested in Professor Stickler. "I've met the fella. All rules an' things, but he's a nice guy. Yeh'll get used to 'im."  
  
"I hope," Liz agreed, glancing at the clock on the mantelpiece. "Look how late it is! We'd better get going. We have that essay for Snape to do."  
  
Rachel and Michael groaned.  
  
They said goodbye and left, feeling slightly better about the week they had just had.  
  
A couple of weeks into the school year and her mother still hadn't sent another letter. Liz was beginning to get worried. Had anything happened since the last? But all her fears vanished one morning as she saw the showy owl flying toward her, bearing a letter. She opened her dormitory window. Desiree peeked out but said nothing as Liz ushered the owl in and untied the letter.  
  
Dear Elizabeth,  
How are you? I wish you the best of luck during your third year. During mine, the Triwizard Tournament came to our school. Your father even competed in it. He won, of course; there was this tragic affair of events in which the other winner was killed. A few years later, it turned out your father had given his winnings to a pair of boys named Fred and George Weasley. They started a joke shop with it. Perhaps you've heard of it? Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes. Or has it closed down now? Ah, well. I must go. I'll write again.  
Luna  
  
Liz grinned. She loved hearing, or rather, reading, her mother recount events of her school day. Inspired, she set off to the library for some free-time reading.  
  
"Let me see...that was the 1994-1995 school year...aw, here we are. A newspaper clipping?" she said, extracting a newspaper clipping from the book she had taken off the shelf. "'Triwizard Tournament. Four champions,'" she read. "'Viktor Krum, 1977-1997. Died in a horrific flying accident. Seeker for Bulgaria from...'" Liz read off a long list of Krum's achievements. "'Fleur Delacour. 1978-? Part vela. Currently resides in Paris. Cedric Diggory. 1978-1995.' In the 1995 school year? 'Killed by Lord Voldemort at the end of the Triwizard Tournament.'"  
  
So that was what her mother had been talking about. That's what she had meant by tragic affair of events.  
  
The piece went on to describe Harry Potter in great detail. Liz slipped the clipping back in, put the book on the shelf, and left with a lot on her mind.  
  
"All right, class, the ingredients are on the board," said Snape.  
  
It was the latest in a series of torturous potion lessons Snape had decided to subject them to on Love Potions.  
  
"A few things before you begin. Do not, and I repeat, do not go in my cabinets. I have some Ravenclaw Love Potions stored there," he said, grimacing as if this was a bad thing, "and they are flawless. Use them and you could find yourself embarrassingly attracted to one of your classmates—or me."  
  
"Heaven forbid," Liz mouthed.  
  
"Since love potions are clear, and I have vials of water stored there also, I cannot tell which is which. Which is why I advise you to be careful." He surveyed the class, his yellowing teeth seeming to flicker in the dim candlelight that lit the dungeon. "Begin."  
  
Liz brewed, wondering all the while, however vaguely, if a Love Potion would work on David. The result was a crystal-clear liquid. Michael and Rachel worked hard, too, but Rachel's was murky and Michael's, an electric blue.  
  
"Maybe he won't notice?" Michael said hopefully. Snape passed behind him and marked something round on his clipboard.  
  
Near the end of the period, Rachel was finishing up, standing beneath one of Snape's cupboards. All of a sudden, Liz felt the power welling up inside her. Something was happening—with the cupboard. "Rachel—haywire magic—look out!" she cried. Rachel glanced skyward as a vial came tumbling toward her. It miraculously uncorked itself in midair and landed, open-end first, in her mouth. Winnie Chen burst out laughing.  
  
"Is it water or a potion?" said Rachel, removing the vial from between her lips.  
  
"I believe it was water," said Snape as the bell rang. Everyone left.  
  
"That was strange. Are you all right, Rachel?" said Michael.  
  
"Of course I am, Michael. Why wouldn't I be? I'm with you." And she leaned on his arm, grinning. Michael stared at her, bewildered. "Liz, what's going on?"  
  
Liz gasped. "Oh, no! It wasn't water! It was a Love Potion!" 


	7. The Love Potion

Chapter 7 – The Love Potion  
  
"What are we going to do?" Liz moaned.  
  
"About what? Everything's perfectly fine," said Rachel. "Right, Michael, honey?"  
  
Michael blanched. "Did she just call me honey?"  
  
"Why shouldn't I? I love you so much!"  
  
"She's gone insane," Michael declared.  
  
"No, it's the potion. Don't you see? What else would make her declare her undying love for you?"  
  
"Wouldn't she do it on her own?" Michael asked. Liz pursed her lips at him. "Just a thought."  
  
"Michael, I know this is kind of sudden," said Rachel, "but will you go out with me? I'll be a good girlfriend! I'll love you for ever and ever!"  
  
Michael looked around at Liz. "Help me here," he pleaded through gritted teeth. "What do I do?"  
  
"Say yes. No, I'm serious! Play along for now until I find the antidote."  
  
"Stop telling him what to do, Liz!" Rachel said. "Well, Michael? What do you say?"  
  
"Um...all right." To Liz, he muttered, "I wonder what Mum'll say."  
  
"Come on, let's go to the library, I need to look. Rachel, get off his arm, we've got to go now."  
  
Over the next few days, Liz spent her time in the library researching Love Potion antidotes. She brought Michael and Rachel with her, but neither of them was much help. Rachel kept hanging on Michael and trying to kiss him. He kept resisting her efforts.  
  
After one night, four days after the incident in Potions, Rachel pulled Liz aside. "What do you think you are doing, Liz?"  
  
"Finding the antidote!"  
  
"No, I mean with Michael."  
  
Liz blinked. "Huh?"  
  
"I can see what you're doing. You're trying to steal Michael from me, aren't you? You keep bringing him to the library with you, saying you're finding some antidote, but you're jealous that he loves me and not you!"  
  
"Rachel, do you hear yourself? You're under a spell, so you love him. It was a Love Potion!"  
  
Rachel sniffed. "That's what you want me to think! Look, Liz, never ever come near Michael again, ever! Do you hear me? Ever!" And she stomped off.  
  
Liz stared after her. Did Rachel believe what she was saying? She needed to talk to Michael. Soon. Or he'd be in deeper than he bargained for.  
  
But it was easier said than done. Every time Rachel saw her coming, she'd lead Michael away somewhere to be alone. Finally one night, Rachel went up to bed early after attempting to kiss Michael good night. He moved over to Liz and asked, "Did you find it?"  
  
"I did," Liz answered. "It was in the Restricted section."  
  
"How'd you get it?"  
  
"I used Snape's signature."  
  
Michael choked. "Snape gave you permission?"  
  
"No. Remember that paper he gave us about the essay on proper stirring techniques last year? Well, he had signed it, and I used a spell to copy it onto my note. I have some right here." She produced, with a flourish, a small vial of black liquid. Michael made a face.  
  
"That's gross. How do I give it to her?"  
  
"Slip it in her drink tomorrow at breakfast. Then—"  
  
Loud footsteps sounded on the stairs. It was Rachel. She spotted Liz and Michael. "You!" she yelled, apoplectic with rage. "You two! Michael, you're cheating on me!"  
  
"Rachel—"  
  
"No, Michael, you will love me!" And she stormed back up the stairs, muttering and cursing under her breath.  
  
Michael looked at Liz. "What did she mean by that?"  
  
"I don't know. I'd be careful if I were you." Liz sat back in her chair. "Stupid haywire magic. I hate not being able to control it!"  
  
The next morning, Liz slipped into the Great Hall unnoticed by anyone save Michael, who gave her a thumbs-up. She returned the gesture. Rachel noticed and told Michael to drink his pumpkin juice. Liz mouthed at him, "Did you do it?" He held up one finger, indicating that he hadn't yet, and took a sip of his drink.  
  
Something changed. When Rachel kissed him on the cheek, he didn't resist. In fact, he planted another one on her forehead! He allowed Rachel, who grinned maliciously at Liz, to take his hand.  
  
She had put something in his drink! A Love Potion? So that's what she had meant by 'you will love me.' And now he did. Oh, great, Liz thought. What am I supposed to do now?  
  
The vial. Michael had it. How could she get it? Why was this happening? Stupid, stupid out-of-control magic! Now her two best friends were madly in love with each other over a potion! This was truly ridiculous.  
  
Liz snuck over to Michael's bag. He didn't notice; he was too busy with Rachel. The vial was in his bag's front pocket, thankfully.  
  
He turned to Rachel to kiss her. Really kiss her, on the lips. Liz refrained from watching and poured about half the antidote in his cup. He took a sip. Nothing happened.  
  
Oh, wonderful. The Love Potion had been in there. It had probably counteracted the antidote.  
  
Liz stole Bettie's glass and put the antidote in there. Bettie began protesting loudly, but Liz really couldn't care at the moment. She replaced Michael's cup with hers and waited. Sure enough, he took a sip and let go of Rachel. Rachel noticed Liz standing there. "What are you doing here?"  
  
Liz couldn't think of a plausible answer for why she was standing behind the once-happy couple, except the truth. But before she could say a word, Michael held out his cup to Rachel. "Drink this," he said.  
  
"Sure, Michael. Anything for you." She smirked at Liz and swallowed. A change took place on her face, and she scowled at the cup. "Gross." Then she looked up at Michael. "What just happened? I feel out of it."  
  
Liz grinned. "I'll explain it later."  
  
October had come in full swing with autumn winds. Rachel refused to talk about 'the incident' ever again, and that was fine with Liz. Michael, too, apparently. Things went back to normal after a while.  
  
They were heading to Care of Magical Creatures one day, looking at a catalogue from Madame Malkin's Robes. Actually, Liz and Rachel were looking at it. Michael hung back, uninterested in clothes.  
  
"Ooh, that one has a nice pattern with the shiny red wands on it," said Rachel, pointing.  
  
"Yeah, I guess that one's good—oh my gosh, look!" Liz cried excitedly.  
  
"What is it?" asked Michael.  
  
"It's an invisibility cloak! I want one really badly. I saw them over the summer but I couldn't afford it."  
  
"If you couldn't afford it, it must be really expensive," said Rachel, taking a look at the merchandise. "Whoa, it is. Nobody can afford it."  
  
Winnie Chen passed by with her friend Patsy Casarez, saying loudly, "I just love my new invisibility cloak! It's so warm and smooth, and best of all, I can be invisible!"  
  
"I stand corrected," said Rachel.  
  
"I wonder how long it would take me to earn enough money to buy that thing?" Liz said thoughtfully.  
  
"Too long," said Rachel. "See there, it says limited stock."  
  
"They're supposed to be really rare," said Michael. "How did Madame Malkin get enough to sell?"  
  
"I don't know, but I want one. A lot!"  
  
"What do you want?" said Chris, coming up behind them. They had finally reached Hagrid's cabin, where most of the class had gathered already.  
  
Something I saw in this catalogue," said Liz. She showed him what it was.  
  
"An invisibility cloak? I wish I had one too."  
  
"Had what?" asked Hagrid's booming voice behind them. If they told him, the whole class would hear that she wanted an invisibility cloak. The last thing Liz wanted was Winnie to know she wanted something Winnie had.  
  
"Nothing," she said hurriedly.  
  
The class was spent with puffy, bouncy round furry animals called puffskeins. They whirred slightly when not playing with friends. Most of the girls had a good time, but the boys didn't really enjoy the creatures that so resembled stuffed animals.  
  
"That was fun," said Liz as they left.  
  
"Oh, yes, tons of fun," Michael said sarcastically.  
  
"It was," Rachel agreed. "They were so cute!"  
  
"Ooh, ooh, take out the catalogue, let me see again!" Liz said excitedly. They spent the rest of the way back up to the castle marveling over Madame Malkin's invisibility cloaks. 


	8. The Matter Eraser

Chapter 8 – The Matter Eraser  
  
Two days later at mail time, Chris's owl came swooping down to land in front of Liz's plate. It carried a letter and a package. "I wonder what this could be?" Liz said to Rachel and Michael.  
  
"I dunno," said Michael, his mouth full of food.  
  
Liz opened the letter first. It read:  
  
Dear Liz,  
I know you wanted an invisibility cloak, but this is the next best thing. Use it responsibly!  
Chris  
  
"The next best thing?" Liz wondered aloud. She opened the lid and took out a small slice of rubber. "Um...what is it?"  
  
"Look, there's a slip of paper inside," said Rachel. "Read it!"  
  
Liz picked it up. "Matter Eraser?" she read doubtfully. "Odd. It says to rub matter eraser over things you want to be erased, and then, when you want them to reappear, rub over them again. Guaranteed to last two hundred years, or your fourteen Galleons are paid back in full. Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes."  
  
"Fourteen Galleons?" Michael said. "That's a lot for a little sliver of rubber."  
  
"Your uncles are ripping people off!" said Rachel.  
  
Michael shrugged. "I can't help it. What do you want me to do?"  
  
Rachel sighed and sat back in her chair.  
  
"Oh, gosh, Chris spent fourteen Galleons on me!" Liz exclaimed. "How could he?"  
  
"Oh, yes," said Rachel sardonically. "How dare he get you a gift for no apparent reason! The nerve of him!"  
  
"I can't go thank him today; I have classes," said Liz. "And no Care of Magical Creatures today...I'll go tonight."  
  
"But curfew for third-years is eight-thirty! You know that, it's mid- October," said Rachel.  
  
"Hello? I'll use my matter eraser. Easy."  
  
"If you say so," Rachel said dubiously. "But don't expect me to go. Professor Rosenberg is making us research non-magical pets, which hate to be the most boring things in the history of the world. That man really needs a clue."  
  
"Last time I checked, you were the ones who sighed up for Muggle Studies."  
  
Michael rolled his eyes. "So how is Professor Stickler?"  
  
"Pretty good. I believe we're starting a unit on ehwaz tomorrow. It's one of the ancient runes," she added, seeing the puzzled looks on their faces.  
  
"Ah, right," Michael said, stuffing the rest of his toast down his throat.  
  
That night, Liz rubbed the matter eraser all over herself and her wand and set off. Chris couldn't afford to spend fourteen Galleons if it wasn't Christmas or her birthday. What was he playing at? But Rachel's caustic remarks, along with one of Mrs. Smith's favorite sayings ("Never look a gift horse in the mouth") rang in her ears as she approached Hagrid's cabin.  
  
Liz crept over to Chris's window and knocked on it. "Chris!" she hissed loudly. "Chris! Wake up!"  
  
He started and sat up in bed, looking for the source of the noise. Seeing nothing, he lay back down.  
  
Liz groaned and quickly rubbed the eraser on her face. "Chris, get up, it's me, Liz!"  
  
He looked out the window and almost yelled. "What is it?" she hissed impatiently. Then she realized a floating head would look pretty bizarre. "I'm using the eraser you gave me. What possessed you to spend fourteen Galleons on it?"  
  
He shrugged. "Did you want me to spend that four thousand Galleons on a cloak?"  
  
"No!"  
  
"So why did you come down here?"  
  
"To thank you, I guess."  
  
"Well, then, you're welcome."  
  
It occurred to Liz right then that if that was all she had planned to say, she could have waited until tomorrow during Care of Magical Creatures rather than risk expulsion. He hadn't even given a reason why he had gotten it for her.  
  
"Well," said Chris, "if that's all..."  
  
But suddenly it wasn't all. Liz felt, once again, that overwhelming sense of power that was inexplicably always followed by disaster. And with it came a feeling of—heat.  
  
A spark. It started in the scrubby grass on the edge of the cabin, almost directly beneath Chris's window. Liz panicked. "Chris," she choked, close to hyperventilating. "Fire. Fire!"  
  
"What?"  
  
"Fire! I need water!"  
  
"I can't wake Hagrid up! Don't you know a spell or something?"  
  
Right. Liz felt embarrassed that she hadn't thought of that before. She whipped out her wand and said, "Aqueosa!" A jet of water squirted at the small patch of fire and quenched it. All that was left there was a black patch of ashy grass. Liz looked up at Chris. "Sorry."  
  
"What happened?" he asked.  
  
"I told you my magic was out of control. Things like that happen a lot. To me."  
  
"That must be hard."  
  
"It is. Well, I guess I better go. Just wanted to...say thank you."  
  
"Bye!"  
  
Liz left, more confused than when she had come. She had almost set Hagrid's house on fire! This magic was dangerous and she had to learn to control it, or someone she knew might get hurt.  
  
Liz, Michael, and Rachel had started giving Chris lessons by now. He had improved significantly but not so much that they advertised the fact that they were breaking Ministry laws, especially to Hagrid. He remained blissfully clueless, convinced that they had taken his advice and stopped.  
  
Halloween arrived. The third-years spent most of the day at Hogsmeade, where Liz and Rachel finally met Michael's uncle's twin, Fred Weasley. He was much the same as George had been.  
  
They returned, exhausted but content, with the prospect of the Halloween feast coming later. When Rachel headed down to the common room, Liz told her she was tired and stayed up in the dorm.  
  
"All right," she told herself once Rachel was gone, "I wish my trunk was on my bed."  
  
The trunk disappeared, but it didn't come back. Instead, a disheveled pile of clothes landed on her bed. No trunk came.  
  
"Hello? Trunk?" Liz said, mostly to herself. But her trunk landed, not on her bed, but on her foot. "Ow!" she cried. But a little pain was nothing if she could harness these out-of-control powers.  
  
Maybe she should start smaller. Yes, that was it. She extracted a sock from the huge pile of clothes and set it at the foot of the bed. "Oh, please let this work," she muttered. "I wish it was on the chair."  
  
The power pulsed through her once again, but with it came the feeling of being watched. It felt as if thousands of eyes were searching her, creeping all over her, and Liz didn't like it. The horrible feeling overwhelmed and overpowered her. Liz knew she was going to hit the floor, but she passed out before she hit it.  
  
She woke up to someone banging on the door. Her head felt like it weighed twice as much as the rest of her body, and yells coming from the other side of the door pounded through her head. "Liz? Liz! Are you in there?" Rachel yelled.  
  
Liz pulled herself together and stood on wobbly legs. "I'm fine," she called weakly, her voice cracking halfway through the second word.  
  
"Unlock the door! I brought you some food."  
  
Liz hurried and let Rachel in. Rachel handed Liz the food, which Liz ate on the spot. Rachel placed herself precariously on the edge of Liz's bed, next to the pile of clothes, and said, "Are you feeling all right?"  
  
Liz nearly choked on the flask of pumpkin juice Rachel had brought her. "What makes you say that?"  
  
"You never came to the feast, and you said you were tired earlier, remember?"  
  
"Oh, yeah. I'm...I'm a bit better, thanks."  
  
She took a large sip from the flask. Then, with sudden determination, she said, "Rachel, I wasn't tired before, but I am now." And she proceeded to explain the whole ordeal to Rachel, whose eyes got wider and wider with every word Liz spoke.  
  
Finally, when Liz was done, Rachel exhaled slowly. "Wow," she said. "You passed out?"  
  
"Yeah. I don't feel too good. I think I'll go to bed."  
  
Liz refilled her trunk with all her clothing, lay down in bed, pulled the hangings together, and pulled the covers over her head. What had happened? She had never fainted while her magic had been going haywire. Then again, she had never tried to use that magic on command, either. With all these things to think about until morning, Liz fell asleep. 


	9. Sunny Catnapped

Chapter 9 – Sunny Catnapped  
  
Liz awoke the next morning to a tapping sound on the window and Bettie's snoring. She stumbled wearily to the window to see her mother's white owl. She took it in and shushed it while she took the letter off its leg. "Tell Mum thanks," she muttered to the owl jokingly. The owl gave a loud hoot and flew off.  
  
"Wha—?" came Rachel's voice from behind her hangings. "What was that?"  
  
"I just have mail. Go back to sleep."  
  
Rachel obliged. Liz took the letter and read:  
  
Dear Elizabeth,  
Happy Halloween! Is third-year going all right? How are your new classes going? What are you taking? I took Divination and Care of Magical Creatures. Divination was rubbish, honestly, but Care of Magical Creatures was all right. I don't remember why I took those two, really. Wait, yes, I do. I liked your father—no, that was before I knew him. I really don't know, but your father took those classes, too. Maybe it was more than coincidence.  
I have to run. I'll write again.  
Luna  
  
Liz smiled, folded up the letter, and put it in her upper left-hand drawer.  
  
The weather was getting progressively colder. It was almost the middle of November, which meant it was a little over a month until Christmas vacation. The teachers seemed determined to fill all the students' heads with as much information as possible before the break.  
  
In Defense Against the Dark Arts, Professor Pumjy taught about a Dark creature called a kappa. He even brought one in. Liz was touching it carefully when her unexplained magic turned on and the kappa went wild, spraying water over everyone and everything. Professor Pumjy jumped so badly that he smashed his head on the chandelier and swore loudly. Professor McGonagall, who was passing by, heard and came in, threatening to have his paycheck if she caught him cursing before children ever again.  
  
Professor Weasley was in much the same mood as the headmistress. She seemed determined that every student get everything right. So determined, in fact, that she took points off Michael, her own son, for failing to perform a Switching Spell correctly. Liz nearly made her own mistake after that.  
  
But Professor Stickler was the worst. He yelled at people for not putting their heading on their work, and he even took points from Hufflepuff when David Hannigan tore his book, even after David fixed his page. "I don't care if you repaired it," Professor Stickler said. "It's the principle of the thing. You have to be careful with your school supplies, especially your texts. Five points from Hufflepuff."  
  
Liz attempted to give David a consoling smile, but Bettie was already pouring out the pseudo-sympathy all over him. Liz gave Bettie an icy smile before turning back to pay attention to Professor Stickler's lecture on the layout of the Ancient Runes caves.  
  
In History of Magic, Liz found a new way to take notes. She often wondered how she could be reduced to this. She had gotten a Quick-Quotes Quill in Hogsmeade, and she set it to work while she turned on her Wizarding Wireless to listen to her new favorite singer, Thorn Xeh.  
  
In the middle of Liz's favorite song, there was a loud beep that made everyone in her vicinity wake up. Liz hurriedly turned down the volume. "Today," said an announcer's voice, "there was a break-in at the Department of Mysteries. Ministry officials will not comment whether or not anything was stolen."  
  
"Get back to the music," she hissed at her Wireless, fully aware it couldn't hear her. She got a surprise when it whispered back, "Okay," and reverted to the songs on another station.  
  
In Herbology, Professor Longbottom set them to work repotting Mandrakes. When Michael, who had been having a bad day, asked loudly, "Didn't we do this last year?" Professor Longbottom responded with, "These things saved many, many of my friends in my second year, including Professor Weasley." Michael fell silent.  
  
And so it went, every teacher (except Hagrid) in a bad mood almost every single day. Hagrid kept up his cheerful appearance most every day, except once when he caught Chris attempting to make tea with magic. Liz and the others were careful not to cross his path that day.  
  
Liz dropped into her desk chair after one particularly draining Potions class and whistled softly so that her kitten Sunny would come and purr on her lap. That was always relaxing. But Sunny didn't come. Liz whistled again, this time a little louder, but her cat still didn't appear. Where was she?  
  
"Liz," Rachel said, opening the door to the dorm, "It's time for dinner. Are you coming?"  
  
"Yeah," Liz said absentmindedly. "Hey, Rachel, have you seen Sunny lately?"  
  
"No, I don't think so. I'd ask Desiree, Alberta, and Bettie about it. Come on, we're going to be late."  
  
The two girls hurried down to the Great Hall, where they met Michael. Rachel told him about Sunny going missing and he frowned. "What's wrong?" Rachel asked.  
  
"Well, Winnie and some of the other Slytherins are over there meowing," he said, pointing.  
  
Sure enough, Winnie Chen and a group of her Slytherin friends were laughing about something. They shot Liz a group smirk and Winnie pretended to meow, causing more peals of raucous laughter from the Slytherin table.  
  
"I bet they stole her, I bet they—"  
  
"Calm down, Liz, it'll be fine," said Michael. "Tell Mum, she'll—"  
  
"No," Liz retorted, without taking her eyes off Winnie, "I've got a score to settle."  
  
She waited, not very patiently, for dinner to end. When it was over, she told Rachel and Michael that she'd see them in the common room later and followed Winnie out of the Great Hall at a distance. Winnie unknowingly led her all the way to the Slytherin dungeons. She was in the very back of the queue of students to enter the common room, so just as she was about to go in, Liz called out her name.  
  
Winnie meowed softly, and then laughed. "Are you missing your precious kitty? It was so easy to get someone to levitate me up to your window so I could take it. You really should think about locking those, you know?"  
  
Liz was so incensed that she forgot whatever she had planned to say, whatever she was going to do to even the score. She just wanted to...She only wished she could...  
  
The power. The power was back. So was the sense of being watched, but fainter now. Liz didn't really want to cause her enemy any physical harm. "Winnie," she said weakly, the strength building up inside of her. "Winnie...look out..."  
  
But there was really nothing to look out for. Winnie was lifted bodily and flung against the wall. She slid down it, defeated. A trickle of blood ran down her forehead and dripped into her eye. But whatever was happening wasn't finished. Winnie flew into the air and did three flips before hitting the low ceiling. With a moan, she crashed back down to the ground.  
  
Liz had been so absorbed in what had been happening that she hadn't noticed a door open in the dark hallway behind her. "Elizabeth Potter!" Snape roared, flushed with rage. "What is going on here?"  
  
Liz cringed. How was she supposed to explain this, especially to the teacher who was most likely to twist her words? "I—I—"  
  
Snape conjured a stretcher and floated Winnie, who was unconscious, onto it. "Follow me, Miss Potter," he snapped. "You're going to see the headmistress."  
  
After leaving Winnie at the hospital wing, Snape led Liz to the headmistress's office. He conjured a piece of parchment, filled it with writing with a wave of his wand, gave it to Liz, and sent her inside. She hesitated to open the doorknob.  
  
McGonagall was inside, surrounded by trinkets covered in dust. Lining the walls were frames upon frames of portraits of many wizards and witches, most of whom seemed to be sleeping. A couple peeked their eyes open and eyed Liz suspiciously before sitting up straight.  
  
"Professor McGonagall?" Liz asked tentatively.  
  
McGonagall's eyes snapped up. "Yes, Elizabeth?"  
  
"Uh, well, I...I was...what I mean to say is..."  
  
"Spit it out," said the headmistress.  
  
Instead of "spitting it out," as Professor McGonagall had instructed, Liz handed her the note. Professor McGonagall read it aloud. "'Professor McGonagall, it has come to my attention that there is an enmity between Elizabeth Potter and Winifred Chen. The scene I found earlier tonight best describes this: Miss Potter, standing before a very beaten-up Miss Chen, who is currently in the hospital wing, unconscious. Please ask Miss Potter of these events, or this tension is sure to continue. Sincerely, Severus Snape.'"  
  
The tension issue is sure to continue anyway, Liz thought as McGonagall folded up the letter and looked up at Liz, a white circle around her mouth. "Well, what do you have to say for yourself, Miss Potter?"  
  
Liz took a deep breath. "Professor, this is going to be hard to believe, but...I seem to be having problems with my magic. At times, I can't control it anymore. Winnie stole my cat out of my dorm, and I got mad. It started up and really beat her up. I didn't mean to, honestly. I just—"  
  
"All right, Elizabeth, let me think."  
  
"What is there to think about, Minerva?" said a calm, cool voice. Liz looked around before determining that it came from one of the portraits on the wall. It was of a man with light blue yes, long white hair, a long white beard, and half-moon spectacles. He seemed to radiate calmness. "The burglary at the Ministry, remember?"  
  
"Yes, Albus, that is what I am thinking of," said McGonagall, seemingly embarrassed, for she had obviously not thought of it. Liz finally recognized the old wizard as Albus Dumbledore, Hogwarts's last headmaster before McGonagall. He smiled knowingly as Professor McGonagall pulled herself together after the embarrassment.  
  
"What does the burglary have to do with this?" Liz asked.  
  
"Everything, Elizabeth," said Dumbledore's portrait, "because a record of a prophecy was stolen. And that prophecy was about you." 


	10. David's Letter

Chapter 10 – David's Letter  
  
Liz nearly swallowed her tongue. "A—about me?" she gasped, trying hard to end her coughing fit.  
  
"Yes, about you," said Dumbledore. "Don't sound so surprised, Elizabeth, you are the daughter of the Boy Who Lived. I don't remember the exact wording, but it said something about the daughter of the Boy Who Lived connected to the Ancient Runes, which said something about an unharnessed magic, both a blessing and a curse, that would never stop and responded either randomly or according to her feelings. It comes at the thirteenth year. You felt different the minute you turned thirteen, am I correct?"  
  
"Yes, but I didn't think much of it afterwards."  
  
"You should have. I presume this power has been both a blessing and a curse?"  
  
"A curse, mostly."  
  
"But it might come in handy someday. Remember that."  
  
"I believe this little meeting is over," said McGonagall, irritated that she had little to do in the matter. "As for your punishment, since it was involuntary, there will be none. But Winnie Chen, she stole another's private property out of a rival dorm. I'll need to consider a possible detention for her after she heals."  
  
Liz couldn't keep the grin from spreading across her face. Dumbledore noticed and smiled sagely. "You may leave now, Elizabeth."  
  
It really was bizarre to talk to a portrait, as Liz decided later. "Thank you, sir, Professor McGonagall. I'll try to be more careful in the future."  
  
"You may try, but it will be no use," said Dumbledore. "Goodnight."  
  
Liz hurried out of the office, very confused even though one of her mysteries had been solved. Her feet carried her all the way to the Gryffindor common room, where Rachel and Michael, among a few other stragglers, were waiting.  
  
"What happened?" Michael said as soon as he spotted her.  
  
"Well, Winnie is in the hospital wing and she might get a detention," Liz said, the uncontrollable grin on her face again. "I'll tell you tomorrow."  
  
Liz was as good as her word. In the morning, as she went to McGonagall's office to retrieve Sunny, she explained each and every detail of the previous night to Rachel and Michael. They were stunned at the news of the prophecy. "But that means whoever stole the thing knows about your powers, don't they?" Rachel said.  
  
"True. I never thought of that," said Liz.  
  
The next lesson for Chris was scheduled for the dawn of December. Liz told Chris all about the ordeal before they started. He seemed amazed, not by the prophecy, but by the fact that Liz had spoken to Dumbledore, even in picture form. "Hagrid goes on and on about how he was the greatest headmaster Hogwarts ever had, followed by McGonagall, naturally, and how it's a pity he passed away some years back."  
  
They then began the lesson. It was on the Tripping Charm. Chris had tried it before, but he had a hard time getting it.  
  
"You remember the incantation?" said Liz.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"All right, go!" she said, bracing for the worst.  
  
"F-fallosa!" Chris stammered.  
  
Instead of tripping, Liz flew into the air, close to the top of the nearest tree. "Help!" she cried. Rachel, Michael, and Chris gathered under her, staring up. "Get me down! Before Hagrid sees!"  
  
"Hang on, we'll find a way," Chris called.  
  
"Oh, gosh, I didn't think about that," said Michael. "Hagrid will see you up there."  
  
"I know that! Now get me down!"  
  
"Um, um, what will we do?" Rachel said, dancing around frantically. "Liz, do you know any spells?"  
  
"Not that I can remember from up here!" Liz called back. Couldn't they think any faster?  
  
"I can't think!" Rachel moaned. Michael nearly pulled out his hair in frustration.  
  
"Wait, I've got it!" said Chris. He brandished his wand and cried, "Wingardium Leviosa!" Liz felt herself being lowered slowly to the ground. She landed neatly on her feet.  
  
"Well," she said shakily, "at least we know you can do that charm."  
  
"Are you okay?" Rachel asked.  
  
"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine." Liz looked up at Chris. "We'll work on it. Just a little more practice—"  
  
"But not today," Chris countered. "Maybe this lesson is over."  
  
"If you say so," said Liz. "I—I guess we'll see you later. Tell Hagrid goodbye for us."  
  
Rachel added, "But not anything else."  
  
They waved as they headed back up to the castle. Liz looked up at where she had been in the air and winced. Chris was improving, however slowly. But how slowly could one person go?  
  
Christmas was approaching. On the last day before the break began and all the departing students left, Liz, Rachel, and Michael exchanged gifts. They had decided to do it before the latter two left, so as not to strain the owls with too many large packages.  
  
"I'll go first," said Rachel, picking up Liz's present. She shook it tentatively, and then she ripped into it. It was a bulging bag of a sweet called Canary Creams, the second highest-selling treat at Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, preceded only by a delightfully horrific one called Ton-Tongue Toffees.  
  
"Feed them to the twins," said Michael. Carla and Theresa Yates were exchanging very rubbery, bouncy, loud gifts with their friends elsewhere in the common room.  
  
Liz opened Michael's next. It was more sweets from the store Honeydukes in Hogsmeade. "Thanks, Michael," said Liz. "Your turn."  
  
Michael picked up the only gift labeled to him. "How come I only get one?" he said. "Who's this from?"  
  
"It's from both of us," said Rachel.  
  
Michael weighed it in his hands, seeming to be considering what would be the best way to open it. Then he shook it so whatever was inside rattled around violently. "Don't!" Rachel cried. "It's fragile."  
  
Michael raised an eyebrow, shrugged, and tore into it. He pulled out a Wizarding Wireless. "You guys really didn't need to do this."  
  
"But we did," said Rachel.  
  
"Now we know what to get Rachel for her birthday," Liz said, grinning.  
  
"Thanks," said Michael. "Who's next?"  
  
"Me!" Rachel and Liz cried simultaneously. "Okay, we'll both do it together," said Liz.  
  
Rachel picked up the one from Michael and Liz picked up the one from Rachel. Rachel pulled out a hair accessory that flashed different colors. "Oh, Michael, I love it!" she exclaimed.  
  
Liz's was an inkpot that she never had to refill. The supply of ink just replenished itself. "Thanks," said Liz. "This'll be good for my Quick- Quotes Quill in History of Magic."  
  
"I thought you'd like it," Rachel responded, beaming.  
  
"You know she just got it for you so you can let us borrow your notes," said Michael.  
  
"Not a chance," Liz grinned.  
  
The next morning, both Rachel and Michael left on the Hogwarts Express with most of the student population of the school. Liz saw them off, and then she went upstairs to do some extra reading for Potions, in which she had her lowest mark yet. That wasn't surprising, naturally, but Liz was determined to prove to Snape that she wasn't as much of a dolt as he made her out to be. She had checked out a pile of books from the Restricted section of the library with Professor Weasley's signature.  
  
She finally finished them on the day of Christmas Eve. So that was how the theory of Veritaserum worked. She had read an article about it while researching Love Potions, and she had wondered about it ever since. She still had to send her Christmas cards. She'd better get started.  
  
She pulled out a quill and began. She wrote one to the Smiths, one to Hagrid and Chris, one to the Yateses, one to the Weasleys, and one extra she planned to keep: to David Hannigan. It wasn't embarrassing; it said hello, how are you, Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays, and things like that. She stowed it away in her desk next to her mother's letters. Writing it was one thing, but she would never send it. She wished she could send it, but she could never work up the courage.  
  
She set all the present by the letters they went to. Before she headed up to the Owlery to fetch Luna to send them all, Liz looked at the letter sitting in her drawer, never to be sent. It looked fancy on her one piece of green stationery. She sighed and headed out of the dorm.  
  
It was if Liz's owl could sense the holiday excitement in the air. She bounced around, and Liz had to retrieve her from atop a tall statue in the middle of a corridor, with many passersby eyeing her as if she was crazy.  
  
She reached her dorm and gave all the letters and packages to Luna, who struggled with the weight. "Just give them to whomever they're addressed to," Liz said, placing her on the window. She went to go make sure David's letter was safe.  
  
But it wasn't there.  
  
Oh, no. She had wished she could send it! Liz rushed to the window, where Luna had just taken off. She was too far away to call her back now. Among all the normal letters was one piece of green stationery.  
  
Stupid powers! They were making Liz's day-to-day life near impossible to live. Now David might suspect that she liked him, especially since the two had never said a word to each other. This was bad. This was really bad. What in the world was she supposed to do? 


	11. Rachel's Birthday

Chapter 11 – Rachel's Birthday  
  
Liz woke up on Christmas morning with a thrill of dread. David had probably gotten her letter already. If only she had called Luna back. If only she hadn't written the letter. If only she didn't have these stupid powers. If only she wasn't Harry Potter's daughter. But all these "if only's" weren't helping any. She clambered out of bed reluctantly, dreading Christmas for the first time in her life.  
  
"Liz, you have an owl," said Alberta from across the dorm. She sort of looked like a horse: She had the teeth and the long face. Alberta produced Liz's mother's owl from a cage. "It nearly attacked me when I let it in this morning," Alberta added. "I had to cage it. Here's your letter."  
  
"You didn't read it, did you?" Liz asked, maybe a little too quickly.  
  
"No."  
  
"Good. I mean, uh, thanks." Liz took the letter, sent the owl on its way, and buried herself in the privacy between her bed hangings. She read:  
  
Dear Elizabeth,  
Merry Christmas! How are you doing?" I miss you a lot. This will probably be the quickest letter ever. I've got to run. Goodbye!  
Luna  
  
Taped underneath the short body of the letter was a small pin with the Hogwarts crest on it. Liz untapped it and pinned it to the front of her robes. Maybe, just maybe, it could be her good luck charm. She'd definitely need it today if she saw David.  
  
Liz headed downstairs, not much in the mood to wait for Alberta, who was the only other Gryffindor third-year girl who had stayed behind for the holidays. The common room was completely empty. Liz made for the Great Hall with mixed feelings. David was probably there, since he never went home for the holidays either. She entered and chose a seat as far from the Hufflepuff table as possible.  
  
Alberta came soon, and she sat with Liz since there was no one else but John Peterson, who kept glancing over at Liz. Alberta told Liz about her family, how both her parents were Muggles, and how her older brother had already graduated from Hogwarts a long time ago. She was telling Liz about her owl, Clogs, until a shadow fell over them. Liz looked up to see David Hannigan.  
  
"Thanks for the Christmas card, Liz. Merry Christmas."  
  
"Merry Christmas," Liz managed to say. He grinned, seemingly embarrassed, and walked away. Liz hardly noticed Alberta raise her eyebrows questioningly. He had talked to her. He didn't hate her. He didn't think she was weird! This was definitely the best Christmas ever.  
  
"Liz! Over here!" a voice called. It was Chris, up at the High Table. Liz said goodbye to Alberta and hurried over to him as if in a dream, a wonderful dream about David Hannigan. The dream ended, however, when she saw that Chris was holding a present and she wasn't. "I'll be right back," she promised, and ran off.  
  
When she returned, they exchanged gifts. The one he gave her was something labeled CHEERING CHARMS IN A SPHERE. "It's for when you get frustrated at lessons," Chris told her, making sure Hagrid wasn't listening.  
  
"Then maybe I should get you some," Liz commented wryly. "Go ahead, open yours."  
  
He obliged. It was a Remembrall. "The smoke inside turns scarlet if you've forgotten something," Liz told him.  
  
"That'll be useful," Chris said. "Well, Merry Christmas, Liz."  
  
"Merry Christmas," Liz answered.  
  
Rachel, Michael, and everyone else returned shortly after New Year's. Michael told both of them how his mother had given Jessica a long talk about how she was a Gryffindor prefect now and her O.W.L.s were coming up, and she should really start to buckle down. Michael quoted Professor Weasley with a snicker: "In my fifth year, I began studying for O.W.L.s in October. I'm astonished you haven't started yet."  
  
"But I'm sure she was exaggerating," said Rachel. "I mean, what kind of crazy person starts studying in October?"  
  
Liz twisted up her mouth but said nothing.  
  
"Knowing Mum, I wouldn't be surprised," Michael said. "Pretty soon she'll be telling me to study for my O.W.L.s."  
  
"She's not that unreasonable," said Liz. "You haven't even learned all the material yet."  
  
The twins raced by, lugging Rachel's bag with all of her books inside. "No, stop! Come...come back..." Rachel tried, vainly chasing after them. This gave Liz a chance to tell Michael what she was thinking of.  
  
"Rachel's birthday is coming up. We should throw her a surprise birthday party. A huge one. Invite all the Gryffindors and everything. She's turning the big one-four, you know? What do you say?"  
  
"I like the idea," said Michael. "The night of her birthday, of course, and have a huge cake and everything. I'll have my uncles order one from the bakeshop in Hogsmeade. Don't worry; I'll get the word out about it. Invite Chris, too."  
  
"I will. Oh, this is going to be so much fun!" Liz exclaimed. "And we really ought to get her a Wizarding Wireless. That way all three of us will have one."  
  
"Sounds good to me," Michael agreed. "It was a good thing that the twins picked now to be mischievous, don't you think? It's like it was planned."  
  
Liz smiled. "It was." She winked at the nearest twin, who deposited the bag on the floor and ran off with her sister up the stairs, Rachel close on her heels.  
  
Liz spent the good part of the month of January balancing schoolwork and all the plans for Rachel's party. She hardly ever got to discuss it with Michael because Rachel was always there. He did manage to tell Liz that he had invited all the Gryffindors and the cake was ordered while the Muggle Studies teacher, Professor Rosenberg, talked to Rachel about a missing assignment.  
  
Liz also invited Chris, who said he'd come. But the day before the party, the result of all their hard work, a letter came from him. While Rachel was engaged in a conversation with Michael about broomsticks, Liz read it.  
  
Dear Liz,  
I know I promised to come to Rachel's surprise party tomorrow, but I'm sorry to say that I can't make it. Hagrid really isn't feeling well and I need to look after him. I'm sure you'll understand. Once again, I'm really sorry. I hope it's a success.  
Chris  
  
Liz rolled her eyes. Chris really did look up to Hagrid so much as to care for him when he was sick instead of spend an evening with his friends, though Liz wished he had chosen the latter. It was okay, though. They could still have fun.  
  
The next morning, Liz got up as early as humanly possible to start the day- of preparations. There was so much to do. Michael had gotten up early, too, and the two of them used the Reducing Charm to shrink the cake and hide it in a drawer. All the presents had been collected, too, and those had to be hidden as well, near the decorations. Liz had planned an elaborate scheme for those. It would be like play-acting. After all this was done, it was time for breakfast.  
  
The day went fairly well. Liz glanced at Rachel and each teacher's clock at least a dozen times. She could hardly pay attention in class all day, not even in Defense Against the Dark Arts when a bird hit the window and Professor Pumjy fell backward over his desk, nor when Snape told them they would all have to redo the last exam.  
  
At last it was dinnertime, the time of the big scheme. Rachel seemed downcast, as Liz had instructed Michael to tell everybody not to mention her birthday until the party. Liz winked at Michael, and he winked back. Suddenly, Liz gave a moan and fell out of her seat, clutching her stomach.  
  
"What's wrong?" Michael said.  
  
Liz screwed up her face even tighter. "Ow, it hurts, the pain..." She peeked one eye open to look up at the teacher's table. Professor Weasley was barely able to conceal a grin. Michael had asked her to please inform all the teachers of their plan so none of them would be worried. Professor Pumjy looked scared out of his wits, even though Liz had told him herself.  
  
"Help me, let's get her to the hospital wing," said Michael. "John, Robert, help."  
  
The two Gryffindor boys took Liz by the legs and Michael took her under the arms. "Don't come, Rachel," Michael called over his shoulder. "We'll be back."  
  
They carried Liz out amidst tittering from the crowd. Liz's face was flushed with embarrassment. Maybe they shouldn't have gone this far.  
  
Once out of the Great Hall, Liz hissed, "Put me down." John and Robert dropped her legs, and Michael pushed her upright. "Let's go," she said to them. The Gryffindors hurried to the Gryffindor common room, where they decorated the common room so no one would recognize it. The cake was placed on a table in the middle, and they created a sort of pyramid with all the gifts. Liz and Michael's, the Wizarding Wireless, was placed on top. When it was done, Liz stood back to admire the effect. Everything was going to be perfect.  
  
A few minutes later, the entire Gryffindor house, save Rachel, came flooding in. "She didn't see you all, did she?" Liz asked Jessica Weasley.  
  
"No, dinner was over, and she was getting worried about you, so she went to the hospital wing, and we came up here."  
  
"Good. Everybody hide," Liz called.  
  
The students piled behind sofas and under tables. A couple managed to squeeze themselves under a set of drawers. Liz and Michael crammed behind curtains with John and Alberta. Then they waited.  
  
After a few minutes, somebody said, "How long are we—"  
  
"Shh!" several voices shushed him.  
  
It was many more minutes before the portrait hole creaked open. "Hello?" Rachel called. "Anybody in here?"  
  
"SURPRISE!" everyone yelled, jumping out of their hiding places. "HAPPY BIRTHDAY!"  
  
"What?" Rachel said.  
  
"It's a surprise birthday party," said Liz. "You like it?"  
  
"I love it! Wow!" Rachel said, excited. "I thought you lot had forgotten my birthday."  
  
"How could we forget your birthday?" said Michael. "What kind of friends would we be then?"  
  
"So what's first?" someone asked from the crowd.  
  
"Cake!" said someone else.  
  
Rachel turned and saw the gigantic cake. "Oh my gosh, it's huge! Where did you get it?"  
  
"Hogsmeade," said Michael. He stuck a fork in the cake, took out a chunk of it, and stuffed it in his mouth. After a moment of chewing, he and the rest of the house saw a change coming over his skin. It was changing from a pale almost white to a dull blue. The words HAPPY BIRTHDAY flashed across his face in white lettering. Rachel gasped.  
  
"Michael, look at your face," she said, holding up a mirror. He looked at it in horror.  
  
"It was Uncle Fred and Uncle George! I bet they bewitched the cake! How could they?"  
  
"Michael, you'd better get to the hospital wing," Rachel said.  
  
"I'll take him," Jessica offered. "Come on, Michael, and don't worry; Madame Lesille can fix it. Mum'll hear about this, you mark my words."  
  
"Onto presents!" Desiree cried loudly, edging away from the cake, as if afraid it would turn her blue to look at it.  
  
Rachel hurried over to the stack of gifts and removed the top one. "'From Liz and Michael, to Rachel. Happy birthday.'" She tore it open to reveal her own Wizarding Wireless. "Oh, Liz, thank you! Now we all have our own. Tell Michael I said thanks."  
  
"I will. Go on, open the next one."  
  
Rachel opened the entire stack of present one after another, sometimes looking at the tags and sometimes not. On the last one she ignored the tag completely and ripped it open. Out popped a creature that resembled a lobster. It immediately clamped onto her nose.  
  
"Ouch! Ow, ooh, who gave that to me? Ow! No, don't pull it off! Liz, come with me to the hospital wing. Hurry."  
  
Before leaving, Liz grabbed the ripped wrapping paper. On the way to see Madame Lesille, she searched for the tag. She finally found it. It said TO RACHEL FROM WINNIE. HAPPY BIRTHDAY. "It was from Winnie," she told Rachel.  
  
"How did she get a present into the Gryffindor common room?" Rachel wondered aloud, still struggling with the lobster.  
  
"Probably the same levitating-through-the-window trick she pulled when she took Sunny."  
  
They reached the hospital wing and found Michael, his skin now an ashy gray. "I'm going...to kill them," he said weakly. "What's on your nose, Rachel?"  
  
Madame Lesille shooed Liz away, saying there was nothing Liz could do to help. Liz solemnly made her way to the Gryffindor common room, where people had begun to throw the refreshments. It was a mess she would have to clean up, probably all by herself.  
  
The party had been a disaster. Her two best friends in the hospital wing, one of them the birthday girl; a cake that turned anyone who ate it into a walking birthday banner; loud, raucous crowds leveling the common room; Chris wasn't here; and her enemy had managed to sneak into Gryffindor again. She had failed. This was so humiliating. She felt the anger inside of her bubbling to the surface and—  
  
BOOM.  
  
The cake exploded.  
  
Chunks of it flew everywhere, on everybody. Liz could only look on in horror as several people got mouthfuls and turned a multitude of colors. Most of these ran screaming out of the portrait hole. Everyone else was caked in cake.  
  
Liz didn't say a word to anyone. She just ran up the stairs to her dorm and didn't look back. 


	12. The Consequences for Ruining Valentine's...

Chapter 12 – The Consequences for Ruining Valentine's Day  
  
Rachel reentered the dorm at an ungodly hour, her nose ballooning slightly. She shook Liz awake and asked what had happened to the common room.  
  
"I got mad and the cake exploded."  
  
"Oh. Powers, huh?"  
  
"Yeah. How's Michael?"  
  
"He's back to normal, except for this one patch of blue on his ear. It looks like his ear is oozing blueberry juice. But other than that, he's fine. He left before I did, saying something about killing his uncles. I don't blame him, really. How could they do that to their nephew?"  
  
"I don't know. They're strange people."  
  
The next day was a trip to Hogsmeade, fortunately for Michael. The three of them barged into Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes together to see Fred Weasley standing behind the counter, selling Ton-Tongue Toffees to a Hogwarts sixth- year. His face lit up when he saw them, and then it fell when he spotted Michael's ear. "You didn't eat the cake?"  
  
"I did. How could you buy a cursed cake?"  
  
"First, I didn't buy the cake. George did. Second, we didn't buy it like that. We put the spell on it. And third, I gave you a note explaining what it did. We thought it was funny, and we thought you'd like it too."  
  
"You didn't give me a note!"  
  
"It was in the envelope I gave you with your change."  
  
"You expected me to open that? I stuffed it in my pocket and forgot about it! And I had Rachel's birthday wish scrolling across my head!"  
  
"Sorry, Michael. I'll tell you what; I'll give you three free bags of Levitating Gumballs. On the house." He shuddered. "Or your mum will have my neck."  
  
"She's already on a rampage as it is," Rachel said. Fred paled at these words.  
  
"All right, take your gumballs and be off. You'll want to get some things from Honeydukes and Zonko's, I imagine. Don't forget to mention to your mum that everything's all right now. She's just like your grandmother, you know." And he cringed again. "Hurry along, and I'll see you later."  
  
As they walked out, Rachel noticed that Michael's face had frozen with a disbelieving expression on it. "What's wrong, Michael?" she asked.  
  
"He's right," Michael said simply.  
  
"About what?" said Liz.  
  
"Mum is like grandmother."  
  
They spent the rest of the day going in and out of different shops and trying out the levitating gumballs. Michael gave on bag each to Rachel and Liz, and they had great fun with it. They stopped when Rachel neared the roof of the Shrieking Shack and laughed so hard that she swallowed her gum and plummeted to the ground.  
  
After a few days, none of the Gryffindors who had swallowed the cake were still abnormal colors except one fifth-year who had a dot of green on the tip of his nose. He spent most mealtimes asked his friends if they thought people would believe he dipped it in limejuice. He was doing that the night Professor Weasley stood to make an announcement.  
  
"The Valentine's Day Dance," she said (several people eagerly held their breath), "has been reinstated."  
  
A cheer rose up from the student population. Liz felt like cheering herself. Now people couldn't continue to be mad at her for what had happened in first-year. Well, one person could. As Liz left the Great Hall, Bettie Hess stuck her foot out so Liz would trip on it. Liz noticed just in time and stepped right over it. She turned back and smiled at Bettie, who gave her an equally icy smile back.  
  
"How can she still hate me? It's been two years!" Liz complained to Michael and Rachel on their way back to Gryffindor Tower. "How long can one person hold a grudge?"  
  
"Pretty long, it seems," said Rachel. "So, Michael, who are you asking to the dance?"  
  
"Who says I'm asking someone to the dance? How about if I go alone? Or not go at all?"  
  
"Now, we can't have that," Rachel protested. "What about Alberta?"  
  
"She looks like a horse. And she has a boyfriend."  
  
Rachel was immediately interested. "Really? Who?"  
  
"Keith Dircks."  
  
Rachel snorted. "Figures. How about Desiree?"  
  
"She won't go out with anyone under fourth-year. She's into older guys."  
  
"You say the name of the person who's tried to ruin my life for the past two years, who's not Winnie, and I'll kill you," said Liz.  
  
"Then you've got yourself in a fix, Michael," Rachel shrugged. "Nothing more I can do for you."  
  
"Who're you going with?" Michael asked Rachel. "That fourth-year who asked you last year? Russell—something or other?"  
  
"No, he's too old for me. Desiree can have him." She sighed. "I'll go alone, probably."  
  
"Well, if I'm going alone, and you're going alone, why don't we go alone together? Like we did in first-year? I mean, it makes more sense that way, doesn't it?"  
  
"Sounds good. I'd hate for people to think I'm a wallflower," said Rachel.  
  
"That still leaves me without someone to go with," said Liz.  
  
"John will probably ask you," Rachel said.  
  
"John is a bit odd, if you haven't noticed. He sent me roses in first-year. I was eleven!"  
  
"Aw, that's so sweet," said Rachel.  
  
"No, it's not!" Liz shuddered visibly. "It's...creepy."  
  
"I guess you'll have to go alone, then," said Michael.  
  
"But I don't want to be a wallflower either!" Liz protested.  
  
"Hey, maybe Chris will go with you. You know, as a friend," said Rachel. "Like we're doing."  
  
"It's worth a try," Liz shrugged. "I'll talk to him in—"  
  
"No, wait a minute!" Rachel cried, her face brightening. "I've got an excellent idea! Ask that David Hannigan! You fancy him; it's perfect!"  
  
"No, it's not," said Liz dejectedly. "Bettie Hess already asked him. She was talking about it in the common room last night."  
  
"How could she do that?" Michael said. "Mum didn't announce it until tonight!"  
  
Liz shrugged. "I don't know, I'll ask Chris during Care of Magical Creatures tomorrow."  
  
But Chris, it transpired, could not come to the dance. Hagrid had never fully recovered from his bout of illness in January that had prevented Chris from coming to Rachel's birthday party. He felt worse than ever now, and Chris had to stay and watch over him. "If it's any consolation," said Chris, "I wish I could go. But I can't."  
  
"I understand," said Liz.  
  
Everyone seemed to have a date for the dance. Everyone, that is, except Liz. She found herself watching John, wishing he would ask her so she wouldn't have to go alone. She eventually asked Rachel if he seemed to be gathering his courage to ask her. Rachel winced.  
  
"I've been meaning to talk to you about that," she said, a weak half-grin on her face. "He asked Kristy Culpepper. She's a Hufflepuff. Sorry."  
  
"That's it! I'm just not going!" Liz cried, throwing her lands up in the air. "What's the point? And don't say go alone because I'm not!"  
  
"All right, Liz, you can calm down now. You don't have to go if you don't want to."  
  
Liz breathed deeply and looked at her friend. "Yeah, I guess I don't."  
  
The night of the dance, Liz aided Rachel in getting ready. "I'll be the most beautiful girl at the dance. I only wish you could come, Liz."  
  
"I guess this is what I get for ruining two Valentine's Days in a row. Go on, have a good time. Michael's waiting."  
  
Rachel left and Liz sighed. She was the only one left in the entire Gryffindor Tower. She decided to go down to Hagrid's to see if Chris needed any help, and she decided to take the long way to avoid passing the Great Hall. In the middle of a hallway, she heard voices coming from an unused classroom. She checked inside.  
  
"See, these will be the best prank birthday gifts ever," Winnie was saying to a Slytherin boy named Jimmy Whitmer. "I already tried one on Rachel Yates for her birthday last month. Patsy got me through the window and everything, and it went off without a hitch."  
  
"Who's next on your list?" Jimmy asked.  
  
"Who else? Elizabeth Potter." She smiled evilly. "We're late for the dance. Let's go."  
  
They stashed the bin full of those lobster-like creatures in a cabinet and rushed out while Liz followed them at a distance. She had to tell someone about Winnie's plans.  
  
"Professor Weasley!" she called across the Great Hall. Most people turned to look, as she was practically the only one there not wearing dress robes. Michael's mother came up to her and Liz told her the whole story. The highlight of the evening was seeing Professor Weasley drag Winnie and Jimmy off by their ears. Then Liz noticed that people were still looking at her. She hurried out.  
  
Chris was surprised to see her at the door. "Liz! What are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be at the dance?"  
  
"I couldn't get a date," she said, trying to sound as if it didn't matter in the least to her. "Where's Hagrid? How's he doing?"  
  
"Come see for yourself," Chris answered grimly.  
  
Hagrid was on his back on the sofa, one arm dangling over the edge. His usually ruddy face was ghastly pale, and he was coughing up a fit. Chris refilled his glass of water and watched while Hagrid practically inhaled it. He grinned weakly at Liz before falling back into his stupor.  
  
"He's been like that for a while. He got worse this afternoon. I told him he should've told McGonagall that he couldn't teach the past few days, but he wouldn't listen."  
  
Liz stayed until almost past curfew, and then she bid Hagrid to feel better and left. A few moments after she had gotten into the dormitory, Rachel and the others came in. Liz pretended to be asleep as Bettie went on and on about the wonderful time she had had with David. She heard Rachel open Liz's hangings to check if she was asleep, and then sigh and get into bed herself.

A/N: Hey, I hope you like it! Please review! And note to Pussin Boots: I got your story, should I proofread it and post it? Credited to you, of course. Just one thing: in the first chapter of the first book it said that Liz is short with blonde hair and blue eyes, like her mother. Just letting you know. I'll look it over, I already read some of it and it sounds really good! PLEASE REVIEW!


	13. Another Dose of Powers

Chapter 13 – Another Dose of Powers  
  
Rachel seemed to sense that Liz really didn't want to talk about the dance ever again, so they didn't. But Liz couldn't help feeling left out of the love epidemic that always followed Valentine's Day. It made her want to kick something when she saw David and Bettie walking around holding hands.  
  
One morning later in February, Liz told Rachel was going to stay in bed all day. "No, you're not," Rachel argued. "Flitwick is giving us a test in Charms today."  
  
"If you were in here and I was out there, you'd say that would be all the more reason to stay here."  
  
There was silence as Rachel tried to figure out what to say next, broken by a tapping sound. Liz ripped open the hangings and practically threw herself at the window to let in her mother's owl. Then she got back into bed and pulled together the hangings again.  
  
Dear Elizabeth,  
Hi. How are you? Valentine's Day was a few weeks ago, wasn't it? I always liked Valentine's Day, but I never had anyone to celebrate it with until my sixth year. That was when your father told me he liked me. I can still remember it. It nearly broke my heart when he graduated because I thought he'd forget about me. He never did, of course.  
I miss you, Elizabeth. I hope you have a fun rest of the year.  
Luna  
  
Liz didn't feel so bad now that she knew her mother had only begun to date in her sixth year. With renewed vigor, she changed and followed Rachel to the Great Hall.  
  
By early March, the threat of boys had dissipated. Liz was thirteen, after all; she had plenty of time to fall in love (though seeing David and Bettie together still made her feel sick). But something else had resurfaced in the pool of her mind: harnessing her powers.  
  
The first question was where and when to try it out. Rachel would be suspicious if she skipped dinner and stayed in the dorm again. The common room was too risky; someone could come in at any moment. The only other place she could think of was the Owlery. There she could lock the door and students would think someone was sending a secret letter.  
  
So that night after dinner, she told Rachel and Michael that she was going to the library to study. At first they offered to tag along, but she eventually convinced them not to and hurried on her way up to the Owlery.  
  
She hadn't uttered a word more than, "I wish..." before the sensation of being watched nearly overcame her again. She had to stumble over to the window and clutch it tightly before she could stand up straight again. "Odd," she thought to herself. "I wish Luna, my owl, would come to me."  
  
She could see the owl flying at her before the sensation came again and she felt too weak to move. Luna perched on the window and hooted concernedly, but the only thing Liz heard was her body hitting the stone cold floor.  
  
Next thing she knew, she was in the hospital wing with Madame Lesille, the school nurse, laboring at her bedside table. "What happened?" she croaked weakly.  
  
"Shh, now, there, there. You need your rest, Elizabeth. Just lay back..."  
  
"How did I get here?" Liz asked.  
  
"Your friends found you unconscious in the Owlery, dear. It was first thing this morning they brought you in."  
  
"This morning? I was there all night?"  
  
"Liz?" said Michael's voice from behind the curtain that separated Liz from the rest of the hospital wing. "Are you awake? Is she awake, Madame Lesille?"  
  
"No, sit down, give her some rest."  
  
"Please, Madame Lesille?" Rachel's voice pleaded. "We brought her in! She'd still be up there if it wasn't for us."  
  
Madame Lesille pursed her lips and grimaced. "Fine. Talk to her. I'll just be over here, waiting to regain my authority over my patients." Rachel and Michael missed the sarcasm as they rushed over.  
  
"What happened?" said Michael.  
  
"I should be asking you that."  
  
"But why were you up in the Owlery in the first place?" Rachel said.  
  
Liz looked at Madame Lesille to make sure she wasn't listening in on their conversation, took a deep breath, and said, "Do you remember on Halloween? I tried to use my powers then, and I fainted. I really wanted to try again, you see, and I couldn't skip dinner again or you'd be worried. So last night when I said I was going to the library, I went to the Owlery to try again, but that didn't work so well. I fainted again, and now I'm here. How'd you find me?"  
  
"Well, last night we figured you were doing some hard-core studying and we weren't that worried," said Rachel. "But when I woke up this morning and you weren't in your bed, I got Michael and we went looking for you. The librarian said you hadn't been there at all. When we finally got to the Owlery and found it was locked, we knocked and no one answered. I used that opening charm you taught us, Alohomora—"  
  
"I didn't teach it to you. Flitwick did."  
  
"And you thought we were paying attention?" Michael snorted, chuckling.  
  
"Anyway, we went in and saw you, and then we brought you here. Madame Lesille sent for Professor McGonagall almost as soon as we arrived," Rachel finished.  
  
"Professor McGonagall?" Liz repeated.  
  
At that second, the hospital wing doors burst open. The headmistress rushed in amid a flurry of her robes. "Where is she? What happened?" she demanded.  
  
Madame Lesille pointed a long, manicured fingernail at Liz.  
  
"What were you doing?" McGonagall said, breathing heavily.  
  
"I—I tried to use my powers again."  
  
"Don't be foolish, Elizabeth! The stress involved could have killed you! It's one thing accidentally letting something slip, but this is a different matter entirely! How could you be so irrational?"  
  
Liz sat through the lecture silently, her head drooping slightly. McGonagall breathed again and lowered her voice. "I'll let it go this time, Elizabeth, but you need to exercise the utmost caution in the future." She stood and left abruptly.  
  
"At least you didn't get in trouble," said Michael, shrugging.  
  
"But she did just get the mother of all lectures," Rachel pointed out.  
  
Liz leaned back against her pillow and drank the potion Madame Lesille had just handed her.  
  
March twenty-fourth was Liz's fourteenth birthday. She was the last of the three to turn fourteen, as Michael's birthday was in October and Rachel's was in January, but she was till older than Chris (albeit by less than a month).  
  
That morning she awoke expecting to see her mother's owl waiting expectantly at the dormitory window. But it wasn't there. Disappointed, she went to breakfast. Throughout the whole day, it became impossible not to gaze wistfully out the window. Then at dinner, the owl landed in her mashed potatoes carrying another letter. Liz excitedly ripped it open.  
  
Dear Elizabeth,  
Happy 14th Birthday! I miss you a lot. I hope it's fun for you to be fourteen. I was fourteen when I met your father, but that was in fourth- year.  
I've got to run. Write back soon!  
Luna  
  
Liz blinked. "Write back soon?" She blinked again. "Write back! Or course!" She got up suddenly, startling the owl into almost flying away. "No, I need you." She took it up to the Owlery, where she hastily scribbled on a spare scrap of parchment she had in her bag. "Take this back, okay?" she told the owl, who hooted and flew off.  
  
Liz waited for a week for a reply to come back. The owl came to her during morning post, addressed to Miss Elizabeth Potter. Liz ignored the formality of the label and opened it up. The inside was bare and empty. It was just a blank sheet of parchment.  
  
Liz forced her crushed dreams back down her throat, thrust the parchment into her bag, and followed Rachel and Michael to her next class. 


	14. Quidditch Cup

Chapter 14 – Quidditch Cup  
  
It almost broke Liz's spirit to think her mother didn't want to reply to her. After sending letters for nearly three years, couldn't she spare just a bit more time to write one more letter? Apparently not. To distract herself from dwelling on it too much, Liz immersed herself in other things: mainly, Chris's lessons.  
  
They had been doing lessons sprinkled throughout the school year. Sometimes Chris would do amazingly well, but sometimes he would cause a magical catastrophe to occur. It was becoming increasingly harder to hide these accidents from Hagrid, who had taken to occasionally glancing out the window at them during lengthier visits.  
  
During one such lesson, the day before Chris's birthday sometime after mid- April, Chris was brewing a ridiculously simple Sleeping Potion, not unlike sleeping pills Muggles used when they were in dire need of a good night's rest. Maybe it was ridiculously simple for Liz, but Chris was breaking into sweat as he followed the directions, "Stir until frothy." Liz made sure her body blocked any glimpse of Chris Hagrid could get from his window.  
  
"Liz?" Chris said suddenly. "Something's happening..."  
  
The potion was bubbling beyond the point of froth. Rachel leaned her head over the potion, scrutinizing it. "Rachel," said Liz, "I don't think that's a very good—" Then a jet of potion hit Rachel squarely in the face. She was asleep instantly.  
  
"Well, you made the potion right," Liz quipped, bending over her friend. "Rachel doesn't seem to have much luck with Potions, does she? First the Love Potion, and now this...Wake up, Rachel!"  
  
Michael took Rachel by the shoulders and shook vigorously. This achieved nothing aside from Rachel's loud snore. She rolled over on her other side and curled up in the grass.  
  
"This isn't working!" Liz cried out in frustration. "Urgh! Stupid potion!" Then she quickly looked up at Chris. "That didn't come out right. What I meant to say was—well, you know, I mean—"  
  
"I know I did it wrong," said Chris.  
  
"We'll work on that," said Michael, whipping out his wand. "Ennervate!"  
  
Rachel didn't move.  
  
"That works with Stunners, not potions," Liz told him, "which you'd know if you had been paying even one speck of attention in Charms."  
  
"I do too pay attention in Charms. I'm just not devoted to it like you are." His voice turned high-pitched as he mimicked her. "Oh, Flitwick, please give me extra homework, please, I'd die without extra homework in Charms, or Herbology for that matter! Professor Longbottom gave me my own Fanged Geranium and I love it like a baby!"  
  
"Oh, shut up," Liz grumbled. "All you say is Quidditch, Quidditch, duh, Quidditch!"  
  
"Stop it!" said Chris. "We need to wake up Rachel before Hagrid sees."  
  
Fortunately for them, Rachel sat up and stretched at that very moment. "'Morning," she said thickly. "What'd I miss?"  
  
"Nothing you'd lament missing," said Liz. "Oh, hide the potion, Hagrid's coming!"  
  
Michael stashed the potion behind a giant rock just before Hagrid reached them. "What were yeh doin' out here?" he asked suspiciously.  
  
"I—I was making a potion," Rachel said quickly. "And they were watching."  
  
"But I saw yeh lyin' in the grass," Hagrid said.  
  
"It backfired in my face."  
  
Hagrid nodded and let it go, though Liz could tell he still harbored some doubts about it. "It's getting' late. Time for you three ter go back." He turned and lumbered back toward his hut.  
  
"Oh, before we go, happy birthday, Chris," said Liz, extending a present toward him. "I've probably given you something like it before, but I couldn't remember, so..." He took out a Magical History book. "Because wizard training is more than spells, you know? Hopefully, it's more interesting that listening to Binns. Bye, then."  
  
Halfway back to the castle, Liz looked back to see he had opened the book. He had. With a small smile of satisfaction, she turned back around and continued on her way up to Hogwarts.  
  
"Let's go GRYFFINDOR! Let's go GRYFFINDOR!"  
  
"Shut it, will you, Michael?" Liz snapped irritably, glancing up from a large Ancient Runes book. "I'm trying to study. Professor Stickler is pulling a huge test on us tomorrow."  
  
"So is Pumjy," said Rachel from behind the Defense Against the Dark Arts text. "But he seemed so afraid of the idea, I'm hoping he'll cancel."  
  
"So please be quiet so we can concentrate," said Liz.  
  
"But the day after that is the Quidditch Final," said Michael. "Gryffindor versus Hufflepuff. Which reminds me, Liz, you haven't been to a match at all this year."  
  
"And with good reason! Extra classes have devoured all my free time. I won't have a spare minute Saturday. You do remember Hagrid's giving an exam on Monday?"  
  
"Must have slipped my mind," Michael said nonchalantly. "Come on, Liz, the bare minimum is one game a year, or you can't be worthy enough to call yourself a Gryffindor."  
  
"Worthy? I am the top of the third-year. Don't get me started on worthy."  
  
Michael persisted until Liz finally gave in. So it was that Liz was seen trudging along behind Rachel to the Quidditch pitch after Rachel had forced her to leave her bag in the common room.  
  
"Come on, it's going to be exciting," said Rachel. "The Hufflepuff Seeker, Kathryn Hertel, is leaving at the end of next year, so this is her second to last season. Michael says she's the best since your dad, you know."  
  
Liz cringed.  
  
"Oh, sorry. Let's sit here."  
  
Liz looked over and saw Bettie next to the seat Rachel had chosen, following someone out on the field with her eyes. "No, let's sit somewhere else," she said quickly. They found better seats closer to the field, where they could see more of the action.  
  
"Is Hertel the Hufflepuff captain?" Liz asked.  
  
"No, that's Eunice Horning, one of the Beaters. She's a seventh-year."  
  
"How do you know that?"  
  
"It comes from watching the games," Rachel said, the playful thrust directed at Liz's pride. "Come on, ask me anything."  
  
"If only you could do that in school...all right, who's the other Beater?"  
  
"Your friend David."  
  
Panic seized Liz, who snapped her head toward the players warming up on the field. Sure enough, she spotted David's head among the group of yellow-clad players. So that was what Bettie had been looking at...  
  
"Welcome to the Quidditch final, ladies and gents," said the commentator, a Gryffindor sixth-year named Josh Lepress. "Gryffindor and Hufflepuff duke it out for the championship today!"  
  
The match passed in a blur for Liz. Though she watched Michael a couple of times, she mainly focused on David, who beat back the Bludgers with skillful ease. Who could ask for a better beater? Even though it was his first year on the team, he looked as though he had been doing it all his life. Every move he made, she followed; every time he redirected his broom, she noticed.  
  
"You're absolutely infatuated with him, aren't you?" Rachel whispered slyly in Liz's ear.  
  
"What are you talking about?"  
  
"Look, Michael's seen the Snitch!" Rachel cried, pointing.  
  
But Hufflepuff...she wanted David to win. But she wanted her House to win. She felt torn as Michael and Hertel raced for the Snitch. If only David would send a Bludger up there so Gryffindor couldn't be blamed...she wished he would, and end it...  
  
Strength. Power. Invincibility. Liz struggled and cried, "Look out, Michael!" But David had already sent a Bludger aimed specifically at him. It hit him hard in the stomach, almost knocking him off his broom. Needless to say, Hertel emerged from the spectacular dive with the Snitch in her hand.  
  
Michael and the rest of the team looked so dejected that Liz hesitated to say anything about her power, even to Rachel, who shared the team's pain. This had to stop happening. It had to. But how? 


	15. The Last Exam

Chapter 15 – The Last Exam  
  
It was June. Liz could be seen reading both her Ancient Runes book and her Care of Magical Creatures book at the same time. Rachel and Michael were quizzing each other in Muggle studies until Michael nearly died of boredom. "I will never use this in real life," he grumbled.  
  
"You'll use it in a few minutes," Rachel pointed out. "Define electricity."  
  
"Really stupid."  
  
Liz turned away with her books, rolling her eyes to the ceiling.  
  
Liz's last exam was Ancient Runes. She left Michael and Rachel to their Muggle studies and headed down the dark corridor that led to the classroom. It had always sent chills up her spine, but now it almost froze her in her tracks. Someone was coming up behind her. She'd better hurry or they'd come across her just standing there, but her feet wouldn't move.  
  
It was David Hannigan. He almost walked right past her, but then he stopped and turned around. "Liz, right? Are you ready for this exam? I know I'm not."  
  
Liz had known this moment could one day come, but she had never imagined her mouth would go numb. Think, she told herself. Talk. "Yeah, I bet it'll be really hard."  
  
"Stickler has a thing for those rules," David continued.  
  
"I remember when he took points when you ripped a page and fixed it."  
  
"'It's the principle of the thing!'" David said, mocking Professor Stickler. Liz laughed, a genuine shoulder-shaking laugh. David smiled.  
  
By this time, they had reached the door. David held the door open for Liz, who thanked him and entered. The room was empty save for their teacher, who eyed Liz testily when he saw her smiling.  
  
Not long after, Bettie came in. "Hi, David," she said, a simpering smile plastered on her face. I'm so worried about this exam. I'm going to fail!"  
  
"No, you'll do great," David smiled. At least his was a real one. Hers was so obviously fake. Liz turned her seat around to face the wall, rather than watch Bettie's sickening expression.  
  
Slowly, people started to filter in. Liz was saved the trouble of concentrating on the two people behind her when Amy Donofrio, a Ravenclaw, came in and she talked to her. All noise stopped, however, when Professor Stickler stood.  
  
"You are about to take your first Ancient Runes exam, and if you fail and get kicked out, it will most definitely be your last. Good luck." The last two words fell like ice chips from his mouth. He passed out the exams while silence fell.  
  
Liz almost couldn't concentrate. Her head didn't want to face her paper; it wanted to face David. Only the thought that Professor Stickler would think she was cheating kept her head down and her eyes forward.  
  
At the end of the period, Liz shot out of the classroom, not looking back. She didn't want her good luck to run out. She only stopped when she collided with Michael and Rachel, who were emerging from the Muggle Studies classroom with downcast faces.  
  
"What's wrong?"  
  
"We failed," the chorused.  
  
"Oh." Liz tried to keep her grin from invading her face, but it couldn't be helped. Before Rachel could ask, she said, "David talked to me today."  
  
"Of course," Rachel said. "Nothing else could make her this happy. Exactly how many words was it?"  
  
"And was it, 'Can I borrow a quill?'" Michael sniggered.  
  
"For your information, no, it wasn't," Liz snapped. "We talked about how hard the exam was going to be. He made me laugh." She smiled, remembering.  
  
"And it'll be etched in your memory forever," Rachel sighed. "Come on, let's go to the common room."  
  
The common room was packed with cheering students, celebrating the end of exams. Only some Gryffindor fifth-years who had their practical Astronomy O.W.L. exam to take were still studying.  
  
"How's it coming?" Michael asked Jessica, who was buried in a book.  
  
"If you have something to say to me, don't," Jessica said shortly.  
  
They walked away. "I think Mum's gotten to her," said Michael, jerking his thumb over his shoulder at his sister.  
  
The three of them joined the celebration that their fellow Gryffindors had started. It had become wild, with food flying everywhere. Jessica got disgusted and left when a Jumbo Jelly-Ball landed on her textbook. Liz saw her drop a piece of paper as she left. "Jessica! You dropped something!" she called after her, picking it up. It was just a blank piece of paper. This somehow reminded Liz of her mother's return letter, or lack thereof. Maybe she should try again. Now would be the time to do it, with everyone distracted by the party. She dashed up the stairs before her to her dormitory.  
  
Parchment, quill, and refilling inkpot before her, she started. But after the introduction, she found she had nothing to say. "Why didn't you answer last time, write back please"? That sounded rude and obnoxious, like something at Winnie's level. She sat alone in the quiet for a while, sucking on the end of her quill.  
  
Then, though she wasn't using her powers, she felt as if she was being watched again. It didn't overcome her; it was silent, silent but deadly. Was someone actually watching her at this instant? She looked around worriedly, as if expecting to see someone there, but of course there wasn't. Exam stress was messing with her mind.  
  
Suddenly she heard wind. The window had been, opened and the hangings were fluttering in the warm evening breeze. Liz stood up to close it.  
  
"Turn around," said a voice.  
  
Liz seized up for a moment. Her skin felt clammy. She knew that voice.  
  
"Turn around," the voice repeated.  
  
She turned slowly to face the Dragon. His sleek blonde hair was tousled and he had lines on his face. He seemed to be afraid to put his weight on his leg, which Liz remembered had been gored by a magnificent stag the previous year. He raised his wand. "Petrificus Totalus!"  
  
Liz couldn't move. She lost her balance and couldn't catch herself. Before she crashed to the ground, the Dragon levitated her out the window and followed on a broomstick. It was terrifying to fly in the air with no support but a slice of wood held in a foe's hand. Liz didn't doubt that the Dragon would drop her at any moment.  
  
Suddenly, the dragon relinquished his hold on her; she fell a million miles toward the ground, or so it seemed to her, unable to cry out. She stopped quickly, hovering a foot off the ground by Hagrid's cabin. Laughing, the Dragon brought her back up to his level and continued on toward the forest.  
  
She landed abruptly at the edge of the forest. Liz couldn't tremble outwardly because of the curse, but inside she was quaking with fear. At any moment he could decide to kill her, and then it would be all over. She'd never graduate from Hogwarts, never get a job, never...never see her mother again...  
  
The dragon conjured up rope and laced Liz tightly to the nearest tree, and then he took off the Body-Bind Curse. "You never suspected me in the theft, did you?" he said, fingering Liz's wand.  
  
"What theft?" Liz spat.  
  
"In the Department of Mysteries. Of your prophecy. I found you possessed the power that the Ancient Runes spoke of, and I devised a way to watch you while you purposely used those powers. So I walked on foot back to Hogwarts, where I made sure your headmistress was incapacitated before I got to you. And here you are."  
  
Liz was terrified as he raised his wand and aimed it at her heart. Power, she thought to herself. Kick in! Come on! He drew ever nearer to her until she could feel his putrid breath upon her face. She wished with all her might that her powers would start up.  
  
The Dragon stopped a foot from her. "Avada—oof!" An invisible force knocked him back. Liz watched in horror as he stood, only to be pushed back down again. Then he flew into the air and crashed back down to the ground multiple times. Finally, he stood shakily to his feet, breathing hard. "Those powers of yours are strong. Maybe a little pain will calm them?" He raised his wand.  
  
"Stupefy!" yelled two voices. At the last second, the Dragon cast the Shield Charm. The Stunner rebounded upon one of the senders. The dragon stepped aside to reveal a fallen Rachel, next to Michael with his wand out.  
  
"Good move," the Dragon leered. "Except now it's you against me, boy. Expelliarmus!" He deftly caught Michael's wand. "And now you have no weapon."  
  
Michael swallowed dryly. Liz felt dizzy with terror as the Dragon raised his wand again.  
  
"Crucio!" 


	16. Attack of the Dragon

Chapter 16 – Attack of the Dragon  
  
Before the spell was released from the Dragon's wand, he was knocked forward by Liz's power as before and landed at Michael's feet. Quickly, Michael grabbed his wand from him and rushed to Liz, who still writhed in fury against her bonds. He muttered an incantation that turned his wand into a sharp knife, which he used to free Liz. "Thanks," she said. "Where's Chris?"  
  
"Flitwick notified him that McGonagall was down. He's making a potion to wake her."  
  
The Dragon stood up again, brandishing his own wand. He pointed it first at Liz, and then at Michael, and then at Liz again, trying to decide whom to take out first. "Run for it!" Liz screamed suddenly. The two of them took off, with the Dragon on their tails. "Stupefy!" yelled the Dragon. In the split-second before the spell was released, Liz hoped that it wouldn't find a mark. A second later, Michael fell with a thud to the ground behind her. Now it was only Liz and the Dragon.  
  
"You can't run forever," the dragon snarled. "Stupefy!" The spell whooshed overhead just as she ducked. "Eventually I will catch you. And then I will kill you. Impedimenta!"  
  
The force of the spell knocked Liz to the ground and kept her there. The Dragon approached her cautiously, as if not believing that this time his victory was real.  
  
"You!" screeched McGonagall's voice. "Stop right there!"  
  
Liz whirled around to see the headmistress running up to them, followed closely by Chris, who was wearing a concerned look on his face. His hands were covered in pus-oozing calluses, but he still held out his wand that Liz had gotten for him for one of his birthdays. McGonagall had her cane, which looked like it hadn't been used for years, and was breathing heavily, clutching at her chest. Her hat had been abandoned; the event was too serious to warrant something as inconsequential as a hat. "Leave now and never darken our door again, Draco!" she cried.  
  
Liz was confused. Draco? she wondered as the Dragon's spell began to release her from its steely grip. Maybe it was his real name. After all, no one could name their child Dragon. But how did McGonagall know him?  
  
The Dragon chuckled fiercely. "Is that a threat?"  
  
"I knew you for seven years," McGonagall said, still keeping her distance. "I taught you, I helped you, and you gave me reasons to doubt you, but never once did I think you would go this far!" Her voice rang shrill across the clear, chilled night, and Liz thought swiftly that Hagrid could probably hear it in his cabin. "You murdered the Potters. You left their daughter on her own to die. And twice you attempted to usurp command at Hogwarts, when there is still good left in this world!"  
  
The Dragon smiled coldly. He stepped forward, treading on Michael as he went. "I believe I can remedy that." He advanced upon Liz, still unable to throw off the Impedimenta Curse's control entirely. "You will not harm the child!" yelled McGonagall.  
  
Liz knew it was going to end here and now. But all of a sudden, a large, blinding flash of white light lit up the sky for a moment. The light was coming from Liz. She directed it at the Dragon, who flew high into the air. Amazed by her own invincibility Liz flew him in circles and spun him around then crashed him on the ground. Here was her chance for revenge.  
  
The strength began to die down almost instantly, and Liz found she couldn't go very high after a while. After even longer, she couldn't raise the Dragon at all. He remained panting on the ground.  
  
"What's happening?" Liz asked. "Why won't he move?" She tried again, but no such luck.  
  
"You're uncharging, I believe," McGonagall said.  
  
"You mean I'm losing my powers?" Liz said, panicking.  
  
The Dragon stood on wobbly legs. He fell to his knees again. Moaning with pain, he crawled over to his broom.  
  
It took a minute for Liz and McGonagall to realize that he was escaping. It was only after Chris yelled, "Kill him!" that Liz removed her wand from her pocket and began firing spells at the airborne broomstick. Every one missed. McGonagall, severely shaken by her ordeal, aimed worse than Liz did. When it seemed they had run out of enough energy to combat their escaping adversary, Chris yelled, "Fallosa!"  
  
The Tripping Charm? Liz thought, bewildered. It was the very one that had nearly gotten Liz stuck in the air. It shot above the Forbidden Forest and hit the broomstick. Broom and rider rolled over in midair, leaving the Dragon dangling a hundred feet above the deadly Forbidden Forest. For a minute, Liz thought they had him, but then the Dragon swung himself back onto the broom. "I will find a way back!" he called down to them over his shoulder. "An easy way!" And he was nothing more than a speck in the distance.  
  
Breathless, Liz stood at the edge of her world, unable to speak. She had just let the man who was bent on killing her get away. And a promise was a promise; the Dragon would most definitely find a way back to Hogwarts. The thought that she might have stopped him now was eating away at her insides.  
  
"We did it," Chris said softly.  
  
Liz blinked, and then she rounded on him. "What did we do? Let him escape? That accomplishes nothing! Just a potential defeat for us next time! Why did my powers have to give out? I thought I was invincible! I could have captured him if I hadn't run out of magic!"  
  
"Did you think anything is perfect in this world?" said McGonagall. "Everything can always be beaten by something. You've used up the main source of your wild magic, but it may take a while to refill again. Something extraordinary like tonight may not be attempted for many months yet."  
  
Liz felt drained, mentally and physically. She couldn't take one step before she collapsed on the ground. Chris helped her up. "Come on, let's get you to the hospital wing." Liz and Chris hobbled back up to Hogwarts, McGonagall leading the way. 


	17. Not Ready at All

Chapter 17 – Not Ready At All  
  
Liz was only in the hospital wing overnight, and that long because McGonagall insisted. When Madame Lesille released her, she stayed to wait until Rachel and Michael were released as well. Since both had been Stunned, it was simple to revive them, but Professor McGonagall had insisted that they stay all day, just to be sure. Liz had them tell her everything that had happened after she had gone upstairs (but she never mentioned why).  
  
"Well," said Michael, a bandage attached firmly to his nose, "almost immediately you were gone, Chris came running in saying that Professor Flitwick had found Professor McGonagall under a heavy curse that could only be cured with a certain potion. Rachel went upstairs and found that you were gone, so we left Chris to try to make the potion so we could go and find you."  
  
"We ran into Professor Pumjy then," said Rachel. "Literally."  
  
"It was bad," Michael commented, nodding.  
  
"He was carrying this huge glass ball, like a chandelier, sort of," Rachel continued. "Michael hit him, and he hit the wall, and the sphere-thing went flying and hit the floor. Then I tripped on it, and it shattered." She showed Liz a cut on her leg. "That's where it got me."  
  
"And then Pumjy went insane. He said he was quitting, that too much weird stuff went on here."  
  
"He's quitting?" Liz asked. "How can he quit? H's only been here for one year!"  
  
"Reminds you of Garb, doesn't it?" said Rachel. "But he went to pack his things right then. At the moment, we couldn't care less, of course; we ran out to the Forest and found you."  
  
At that moment, Chris burst in. "Are you all right?" he asked. Not waiting for an answer, he said, "McGonagall knows about the lessons!"  
  
"How did she find out?" Liz said.  
  
"Don't you remember? I made the potions for her, and then I used the Tripping Charm on the Dragon's broom! You're the only ones who even visit me at Hagrid's! She's down there talking to Hagrid right now!"  
  
"We've got to hide you," said Michael.  
  
"What good will that do?" said Liz. "We'll have to hide, too, and you haven't been released yet."  
  
The doors were flung open again. This time, McGonagall entered, followed by Hagrid, who was the angriest Liz had ever seen him. They were in deep trouble now. Hagrid had specifically forbid them to teach Chris, and now he was about to explode.  
  
McGonagall landed before them, her hat lopsided once again. "Explain yourselves," she ordered, giving each of them a piercing glare.  
  
There was a tense pause, and then all four of them began blurting things out.  
  
"It was Liz's idea!"  
  
"We tried to keep it hidden!"  
  
"They were only trying to help!"  
  
"He isn't a Squib, he can do magic."  
  
The last one came from Liz, which earned her five awkward stares. Six, if Madame Lesille was included. "He can," she repeated, somewhat softer. "He made the potion to wake you up, Professor, and he almost knocked the Dragon off his broom. And last year he stopped Nilworg with a levitating charm. He can't be a Squib! Admit it!"  
  
McGonagall cast one eye at Chris, who became suddenly interested in his feet. "True," she admitted grudgingly. "Hagrid, come here." She pulled Hagrid over to the corner and conversed with him briefly. Liz looked at Chris, who looked petrified with anxiety. Rachel and Michael were both quaking under their covers. Finally, the headmistress and Hagrid came back over to them. Madame Lesille busied herself with cleaning, but it was clear from her constantly darting eyes that she was listening intently from her corner.  
  
"I have decided," said Professor McGonagall, "and Hagrid has granted his consent, that these lessons of yours should continue. I owe my life to his newfound skills. So long as no one else knows, I believe the law came make an exception." Professor McGonagall turned to leave, but then she turned back and addressed Madame Lesille. "A word of this must not leave your lips either." The school nurse looked slightly putout as McGonagall and Hagrid excused themselves.  
  
Michael looked at Liz, Rachel, and Chris his eyes wide. "We're saved," he breathed.  
  
"And we can continue!" Rachel exclaimed.  
  
"That's great," Chris said, smiling. Liz smiled too.  
  
Later that day, Madame Lesille let Rachel and Michael leave with Liz. They were meandering down the corridor when they ran into an extremely jumpy Professor Pumjy. He was carrying an overstuffed suitcase from which all sort of things were spilling out. "Out of my way!" he yelled. "My train leaves in half an hour, and I can't miss it!" Liz, Rachel, and Michael scooted to the side to let him pass. He shot out the doors and fell down the front steps. All his belongings were scattered in the grass.  
  
Liz looked at Rachel and Michael, who shrugged. The three of them continued down the hall.  
  
At the end-of-year feast, people kept looking over at Liz, Rachel, and Michael, who were rumored to have fought the Dragon again. One Ravenclaw second-year was telling anyone who would listen that he had seen Liz summon a thunderbolt to strike down the Dragon. Not many people believed him, as this didn't explain how the Dragon had gotten away.  
  
When McGonagall awarded Gryffindor House three hundred points for the courageous efforts of the three friends, the applause was mingled with a curious buzzing that didn't subside until the feast was over. Gryffindor had won the House Cup, since the new points had overridden the humiliating Quidditch Cup incident.  
  
The train arrived the next morning. Chris came to wish everyone a happy summer. Liz made him promise to write, and Chris made them promise to write back. Many hugs were exchanged before the conductor had to personally come out and escort them inside.  
  
"This was a weird year," said Liz, leaning back in her seat and closing her eyes. "I mean, with my powers going with, and the Dragon, and all."  
  
Michael nodded. "Jessica is going to be torture this summer. She doesn't get her O.W.L. results until July. She'll be even more impossible to live with!"  
  
"Impossible to live with? That's Emma," said Liz. "Having to go home for the summer is more torturous than a Potions exam."  
  
Rachel opened her mouth to say something when the compartment door opened and David Hannigan poked his head in. "Hello," he said. "Just wanted to say have a good summer, Liz." And he was gone.  
  
"That was bizarre," said Liz after a few minutes.  
  
"He likes you! I knew it!" Rachel squealed. "Oh, Liz, this is so exciting!"  
  
Michael sighed and rolled his eyes.  
  
After a while, Carla and Theresa joined them for a loud game of Exploding Snap. This lasted them until the end of the train ride, when the cards toppled over and created a large explosion.  
  
"Dad!" said Michael once they had left the train. Mr. Weasley was waiting for the rest of his family at Platform 9 ¾. "Bye, Liz! Bye, Rachel!" he called back. "Owl me or call me!"  
  
"Carla, Theresa, there's Mum," said Rachel. "Bye, Liz. Have a good summer!"  
  
"I'll try," Liz replied. The two girls embraced like sisters, and then Rachel hurried over to her mum.  
  
"Liz! Over here!" called a deep male voice. It was Mr. Smith, who was waiting with Mrs. Smith and Emma. Emma had grown taller and, by the looks of thins, meaner. She stood proudly at the edge, her nose upturned, surveying the freak show.  
  
"Ready to go home?" said Mr. Smith, making for the barrier.  
  
Liz looked back at the train, at the words HOGWARTS EXPRESS, and at David Hannigan, who was enjoying a reunion with his family at the moment, too. She thought of the mysterious letters, her powers, the prophecy, classes, and her friends.  
  
"Not really," she said softly. "No, not at all." 


End file.
